A Homecoming
by R.Harper
Summary: Aaron and Christian seem to only have two things in common; movies, and the fact they love each other.  Living together is going to prove a challenge, to say the least...
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys, I thought I'd try this, because I always wondered what happened at the end of the film between them seeing each other again and the thanksgiving dinner.**

**I hope you like it. Please review if you did!**

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><p>Christian awoke with a start that first night, sweat trickling down his back. He pulled himself to sitting and leant his head on his hands, trying to calm his breathing and stop his heart from beating so crazily. The clock on the bedside table read 03.04, and he sighed; Another goddamn nightmare.<p>

"Christian?" came Aaron's muffled voice, still heavy with sleep, "you alright?"

Christian looked down at him, curled into himself, wearing a t-shirt of his that said _Gay AND a Bitch! _in bright red letters, and forced himself to smile a little.

"Sure, I'm good. Just go back to sleep," and he offered a comforting pat on Aaron's back. Aaron rubbed his eyes and leant up on one arm, a confused expression clouding his forehead, "Was it a bad dream?"

Realising he wasn't going to be able to keep anything from him, and that he didn't even want to, he pushed the hair off his damp forehead, took a gulp of water from the bottle he always kept by his bed and lay back down, rolling to face Aaron.

"It's just this stupid nightmare I've been having," he said, half hoping Aaron would just accept this and fall back to sleep again. No such luck. He looked at him with that expectant face, totally ready to hear him out. "It started after I spoke to your Mom that time," he started, falteringly, and Aaron's brow creased, "What? When did you speak to her?" Christian kicked himself; he hadn't wanted to get into all that shit now, he'd just wanted a night where they didn't talk about everything that had gone on, a night where they could just enjoy being together. _Stupid freakin' dream._

"Uh, it was a few weeks after you left. She answered, and I asked to speak to you. She, uh, said you were dead, and that she hoped I'd burn, or something like that."

Aaron lay there silently staring at him, numbly feeling the shock of the lie told so willingly told by the one person he thought would always love him. Christian could barely look at him, and Aaron could feel the remorse rolling off him in waves. He reached out a hand to rest it on his shoulder, his thumb moving slowly across the skin there.

"I'm sorry she upset you," Aaron said softly.

Christian sat up again, too rattled to lay still, all his promises of keeping everything quiet until tomorrow shattered.

"I thought you were dead, Aaron, she told me you died because of what I did, what _we_ did!" As soon as he'd said it, Christian wished he could take back the bratty comment, and closed his eyes for a second.

"Hey, look at me." Aaron urged, and caught the other man's arm, forcing him to turn and look, "Let's not do this tonight, please. I'm kinda tired." Immediately Christian saw how pale he was, and how his eyes were rimmed with purple circles, and his hands all cut up, knuckles cracked and scabbed over.

"You're right, I'm just cranky from the dream. Some sleep will do me good. Best thing about it is, tomorrow is a Monday, which means I have the day off. So we can sleep as long as we want." He leant down and brushed his lips against Aaron's cheek softly. "So goodnight, and I'll see you in the morning."

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><p>When Christian awoke, he lay still as he tried to put his finger on what had changed. He looked about him – the room was in the same order as it had been last night; his pile of washing was still there waiting for him, and the ripped box of magazines sat crookedly by his bedside table.<p>

The window was open, and he could hear the sounds of the beeping cars and trucks from the freeway were drifting in past the gauzy curtains. Nothing particularly out of the ordinary, so what felt different?

Then with a rush that he could feel as a palpable presence he sat up, looking around. The side of the bed he had not slept on had been made neatly, and the black shoes that had been placed by the rug had gone. Christian flung back the duvet and leapt out, grabbing a sweater as he rushed out into the hall and into the front room.

"Oh c'mon, not again, please…" he murmured to himself as he realised there was nobody in the apartment besides him. Nausea rose in his stomach and he looked about for a note or something that might have been left for him, but the room was perfectly ordered (too ordered in fact; had somebody been cleaning up in here?) and absolutely quiet.

He sat on the edge of the couch and buried his face in his hands, repeating the conversation from last night in his head over and over again. Aaron's hurt, exhausted face pleading with him to wait until morning to have the discussion he knew they had to have, and Christian, bringing up stuff that he just shouldn't have mentioned right then.

"I swear God, if you send him back, I'll keep my stupid mouth shut," he groaned into his hands.

He was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he didn't hear the door click, and a set of footsteps that were soft coming down the hall. Christian nearly jumped out of his skin when a gentle hand was laid on his shoulder.

"Are you ok?" came the hesitant voice, and Christian looked up into anxious eyes.

"You're here," he stated, then laughed a little. Aaron smiled bemusedly, shrugged and held up a bag of groceries. "I hope you don't mind; I borrowed a little money from your wallet. I, uh, don't have any money with me. Or anything much else actually."

Christian stood up and took the bag from him, blushing like an idiot as he kissed Aaron softly on the cheek and turned away, leaving him gazing after his retreating figure.

In the kitchen he took out eggs, milk, orange juice, bread and bacon, putting the kettle on for some coffee. As it began to hiss and boil Christian realised how little he actually knew about Aaron; how did he take his coffee? Did he like his eggs sunny side up? Eventually he decided on two eggs sunny side up and a slice of toast. He rooted around in a drawer to find a frying pan and frowned as he couldn't remember the last time he cooked for himself. He usually ate at the restaurant or got take-out, preferring food that was ready prepared for him; but now he had to be a little more responsible, a little more…domestic. At the back of his mind there was the niggling desire to impress Aaron, to show him that he was capable of not being as shallow as he had once thought, so he found a bowl and picked up an egg, tapping it on the side. It didn't crack at first so he tapped harder; the shell splintered and half the egg fell into the bowl while the other half slid down the side, dribbling onto the floor. "Shit!" he swore, dropping the shell into the bowl and looking round for a cloth to wipe it up.

Aaron heard the expletive from the front room and smiled, getting up to see the cause of the commotion. He looked in to see Christian dabbing at the egg with a tea towel and trying to reach for some kitchen paper.

"Uh, d'you want some help?"

"No, I'm fine, just go sit down."

Aaron tried to suppress a grin and walked in, locating the kitchen roll and wiping the egg off the counter, balling it up and putting it in the bin before reaching over and taking the towel from a frustrated Christian.

"Why don't you get us a drink and I'll get this cleaned up?"

"No, it's ok, I can…" he trailed off as he caught sight of Aaron's amused face. He sighed and stood up, handing the towel over and rinsing his hands under the tap. "Sorry, I'm not great at kitchen stuff."

"I can tell. Look, don't worry," he reassured, ushering Christian out of the room, "just sit down and I'll get us something to eat."

Christian slumped against the sofa and leant his head against the back, closing his eyes and groaning slightly. What the hell was this? Yesterday morning he'd awoken with the same dull ache as he'd had constantly since he'd visited Aaron's mother, and had gone about his usual daily routine just fine; made the visit, jogged a mile or so, showered and travelled to work. It had been another normal, nothing-y sort of day. And now all of this; the wonderful, terrible shock of seeing him walking in, the fear that he was losing his mind and being haunted, the tearful early finishing of his shift and the taxi ride home, holding onto Aaron's hand so hard but being unable to look him in the eye.

Aaron ran a bowl of hot water and shook the washing up liquid bottle until the last few drops dribbled out lazily, swishing it about with his hands gently, watching the bubbles form and pop. When he was a child the colours had captivated him for hours, and he would volunteer to help his mother wash up after meals. When he had turned eleven his father had told him that he couldn't do that anymore, as that was a woman's job in the home, so he copied his father; carrying the dishes into the kitchen and leaving them there before walking to the front room and reading his bible or a paper. The thought of the his parent's faces the last time he saw them pushed itself to the front of his mind, and tears pricked at the back of his eyes.

As he washed a few days worth of plates, bowls and glasses he swallowed hard, gritting his jaw as he scrubbed with the old brush and rinsed with too-hot water. He absolutely would not cry over what couldn't be undone.

As he rinsed the last plate and reached for the towel, the first sob broke through, demanding to be heard. He immediately pressed the fabric to his mouth, not caring what state it was in, and squeezed his eyes shut tight. His stomach heaved and cramped with the effort of keeping up some semblance of sanity, and he half hiccupped-half croaked another sob, the first burning tears clouding his vision and coursing their way down his cheeks.

Ten seconds later he was bent double in pain, gripping on to the side of the sink, heaving and sobbing as though his heart would break, the bubbles in the sink slowly bursting and dissolving.

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><p>Christian heard a shuddering intake of breath, opened his eyes and sat up, alert. When another wretched sob tore its way from Aaron's lungs he moved quickly to the kitchen and saw him, face buried in his arms, battered knuckles white with effort. He wound one arm around Aaron's waist and used the other hand to prise his grip apart. Aaron crumpled at the knees and it took all of Christian's effort to stay upright while he moved downwards with him, trying desperately to think of what to say.<p>

He propped Aaron's back up against the cupboards and knelt next to him while he drew his knees up and put his arms around them.

"It's alright, you're ok," he soothed, running his hand over what he could see of his face and head and wincing at the flushed, red skin that seemed to quiver under his touch.

Impossible as it seemed, Christian was struck speechless by the situation. For what seemed like the longest time he held the other man and murmured nonsense comfort words into his ear, like he remembered his mother doing.

"Come on, let's get you somewhere comfortable," he murmured, and helped the by now hiccupping Aaron to his feet and leading him toward the front room, where he sat him on the sofa and placed a box of tissues by his hand. "Stay right there, I'm coming back."

Darting into his room Christian ripped the sheets from his bed and balled them up, digging through the drawer until he found a clean set. From his closet he pulled the blanket he barely ever used and a spare pillow, which he shoved under his arm. A bath towel was thrown over his shoulder and he was ready.

Aaron groaned as he hiccupped again, his eyes feeling as big as tennis balls in his head. Perhaps they were all right; maybe that's what homos did all the time – cry and have sex. He wiped his nose on a tissue and heard the sounds of drawers and cupboards opening and shutting in the bedroom. Christian emerged a second later and threw him a towel, smiling softly at him. "Go and shower, it'll make you feel better. If you need anything I'm just out here."

Once Aaron had disappeared into the bathroom and the sounds of the shower had started, Christian took out his phone and flicked through his phone book. After a while the ringing stopped, replaced by a voice,

"Hello?"

"Hey Mom, it's Christian."

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><p>The hot water stung as it hit the bruised and cut skin on Aaron's body. The slashes taken out of his wrist were all but healed, leaving behind thin white and pink scars as a testament to his desperation.<p>

Not for the first time he questioned what he had been thinking by coming here; what did he and Christian honestly know about each other? They'd only shared a few conversations in all the time they had known each other, so how could it be love?

_Because you thought about him every single day when you were stuck in that place, and that night you spent with each other played over and over again in your head whenever you were alone._

Once he had scrubbed every inch of visible skin until he gleamed, Aaron switched the hot water off and reached for the towel draped across the sink unit, wrapping it around himself carefully. Dropping the dirty clothes into the basket he pulled open the door, peering out to check that the coast was clear. He began furtively walking across to the bedroom when the sound of Christian's voice floated out to him;

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes, handsome?" He turned, blushing and looked straight into a pair of laughing eyes. He murmured something unintelligible and got to the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

Laid out on the bed was a pair of long shorts, a t-shirt and a hooded jacket. Aaron couldn't help but smile when he saw the clean bed sheets and open window to air the place out. All the dirty laundry was stacked in a corner, and even the pairs of shoes were placed neatly side by side along a wall.

Christian knocked twice and poked his head around the door to see Aaron stood looking about the room, the towel clutched firmly around his waist. He held out a cup of coffee and tried hard not to think about what was underneath the fabric. Now was definitely not the time to get a hard-on.

"Hey, uh, sorry, I just wanted to give you this. I have sweetener, if you want it."

Aaron smiled and took it from him, taking a sip and smiling at Christian.

"You make a good coffee." Christian preened playfully, "Well, now you know another of my talents." After a pause he stepped forward nervously and pressed his lips gently against Aaron's, who blinked in shock, closing his eyes after a second. "I…is that okay?" Christian asked, pulling away, eyes wide.

"Yeah, that's okay. Thanks."

"What are you thanking me for?"

"The kiss, letting me stay here, being great to me."

"I meant what I said you know, before you left. I love you. And," he carried on, cutting across Aaron before he had a chance to respond, "I know we maybe don't know each other as well as we could, but I'd really like it if we could…you know…"

"What?"

"Work on it. Together, I mean."

Aaron bit his lower lip gently, mouth curving upward, and fell a little harder for the man standing on tenterhooks in front of him. "I'd like that too."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hi to all of those who are reading this. I now give you chapter two of 'Homecoming'. Since re-reading the previous chapter, I've found quite a few things I'm not happy with, so I hope I can use this chapter as a way to cancel out my mistakes!**

**There are still definite imperfections with this, and I know the ending is soppy, but it felt right at the time.**

**Please let me know what you thought; I hope I can do it justice.**

The second night wasn't any easier; another nightmare waking Christian with a start and reducing him to a quivering wreck. This time Aaron didn't wake up, so Christian slipped out of bed and crept out of the room, closing the door gently.

The night was unusually still, and there was no need for the sweater he had brought outside with him. He looked down at the dry ground and watched an ant making its steady path across a large crack in the paving slab. The sweat drying on his back was making him itch, and as much as a shower would have been wonderful, Christian didn't want to wake Aaron when he was still so weary.

After the horrible emotional outburst of the day before Aaron had gone very quiet, insisting on cleaning the kitchen alone while Christian went for a run. He just wanted a little time alone, he said, smiling at him to soften the blow.

So Christian had run, for longer than he normally did, almost into the middle of town, through the park and down by the hospital, where he sat trying to get his breath back. When he had returned home, shaking like a leaf, he had been amazed by the state of the apartment. The kitchen, for possibly the first time since he had moved in, was spotless – all the glasses cleaned and put away, plates, knives and forks washed up, and even the fridge had lost its funny looking brown stain. He had found Aaron nursing a glass of OJ and reading his bible in the bedroom, the window open above his head. He had murmured a distracted hello, but Christian had withdrawn, not wanting to upset him anymore.

Now, sitting outside with the distant infrequent hum of traffic it was almost easy to think that it was just another night. Perhaps there would be some hot guy getting dressed after an awesome lay, and maybe the alcohol would be leaving his system after all the shots he and Julie downed at the club.

The reality was more frightening than anything he'd considered before. The self-proclaimed slutty bachelor, Christian had been conquered by a good, kind churchy kid who wouldn't sleep naked and had only put out once in his life. He snorted and ran his hands through his hair; it sounded like the plot line to a bad Hallmark Channel movie. With Julie gone, and only work to fall back on, he really was on his own with this one. The conversation he'd had with his mom while Aaron was in the shower had been brief, but promising. She'd been on her way out, but they'd arranged for him to call again on Wednesday evening, when they would have a proper discussion. Christian hoped beyond all hope that she'd have some words of wisdom to share with him on this subject, because he had never felt so out of his depth. They'd got along just fine after his father left, and used to speak every day on the phone when he left home at eighteen, but over the past seven years the phone calls had dwindled down to a couple of times a year. Seeing Aaron so heartbroken over his Mother's rejection had made him quickly re-evaluate his own parental situation and see that he could be so much worse off.

Sighing, he got up and went inside, locking the door behind him and fetching a glass of water from the kitchen. Lying down in the front room he pulled a blanket over himself and switched the television on, muting the sound and enjoying the distraction of the gaudy adverts flashing across the screen. Somewhere in between advertisements for ice cream makers and digital hearing aids he dropped off into a fitful sleep.

Aaron was out of bed at six am, pulling a pair of plain jogging pants from the holdall he had managed to bring with him from the treatment centre. He pulled a t-shirt over his head and looked about for a pair of sneakers to borrow. Christian's were predictably in a corner, under yet another pair of shorts, and he slipped them out as quietly as possible, toeing them on and tying up the laces to take up a little of the slack. He passed Christian sleeping on the sofa and smiled at his usually groomed hair lying tousled across his nose and mouth, allowing himself the smallest brush of his fingertips against his skin. Letting himself out of the door he shut it with a quiet click, stretching his arms out above his head and easing the crick in his neck, before setting off down the path at a slow jog.

An hour later Christian sat staring vacantly at the television, flicking through the channels, glancing at the door every so often, torn between hoping Aaron would be home soon and hoping he wouldn't be.

As disgusted as he felt with himself for even entertaining that idea, Christian knew that he didn't know how to make it all magically better, or how to make Aaron smile again. Frustrated, he switched the set off and frowned, looking at the clock every now and then.

By nine am he was worrying, getting up and walking into the kitchen to look down the path every now and then. After his third cup of coffee he thought he'd better get out of the house before he went crazy. As he slid some flip-flops on and reached to grab his house keys, the front door opened, and a sweating, panting Aaron gripped the doorframe, stretching out his calf muscles. Christian straightened up, a rebuke on his lips, but swallowed it down and plastered on a smile.

"Hey, there you are, I wondered where you'd got to."

Aaron shrugged sheepishly, still panting, and slipped his sneakers off, reaching to stretch his shoulder muscles. Christian stood back as he went to walk past, and grinned when Aaron brushed his lips against his temple on his way to the kitchen. He felt himself relax a little when he heard the sound of a glass being filled with water, and allowed himself a prolonged few second stare at Aaron's back, muscles outlined by sweat drenched fabric, biceps taut and framed by the close fitting t-shirt.

"You alright?" Aaron said, jerking him out of his daydream. He nodded dumbly, deciding to make a swift exit before he made himself too obvious.

Aaron couldn't hold back a flushed grin as Christian left, heart fluttering with the knowledge that he, Aaron Davies, had made another human being go all dopey and embarrassed.

Just the idea of it made his skin burn scarlet and his heart beat rapidly. Draining the last bit of water in his glass he took a deep breath and walked to the front room, dropping to the sofa next to Christian.

Side by side they sat, hands resting on the fabric between them. Christian looked at Aaron out of the corner of his eye and smiled when he saw him doing the same. After a moment of silence he snorted, shaking his head at how ridiculous they were being.

"Come here," he said, laying his arm along the top of the chair. Aaron hesitated for a second, guilt flashing across his face, and then shuffled along until his body was pressed into the side of Christian's. He ran his hand across his knee, and let it sit there, staring at it as though it had a mind of its own.

"It's okay, you know," Christian said softly, and laid his palm across the chapped skin of Aaron's knuckles, "you are allowed to touch me."

Aaron choked a little; God, if he even knew how much he wanted to. The thought of their night at the airport, in the stuffy room with the cheap sheets and his grandfather's watch made his chest ache with sadness. It felt like their easy comfort and ridiculous, body burning, blood pounding lust was just a distant memory, swallowed up by the separation and sadness. "I get it." Christian said, looking him in the eyes. "It's the sex thing, isn't it? You don't want it." Aaron's eyes widened, and he almost laughed at the look of resignation on his face. Christian was still sat there though, hadn't laughed cruelly at him, hadn't told him to get out, just sat there, holding his hand loosely, looking like a lost child.

"Believe me; it isn't that I don't want to, I swear to you. I just…even when all I want to do is…do stuff with you, there's this voice in my head. I guess it's the doctors from the treatment place, or maybe my Mom. Or my Dad, but part of me thinks; what if it's God? What if God himself is talking to me and telling me to stop thinking those things, because it means I'll go to hell. I don't want to go to hell Christian."

For the longest time Christian sat looking at him thoughtfully, before rubbing his eyes and blinking. "I get what you're saying. One thing though. I know you think I don't know anything about religion or the real world, and you're probably right. What I do know is that that guy Jesus, he was pretty alright. Didn't he have a friend who was like, a prostitute? That's pretty big. And he did awesome stuff because he liked everyone. So, if he can be friends with like, a skanky ho, he could probably be cool with you liking guys. Just a thought." He looked away as Aaron's eyes met his.

The sound of Aaron chuckling was the most welcome thing he'd ever heard, and so infectious that he started laughing himself. Before too long tears were pouring down his cheeks, and Aaron was clutching at his stomach, laughing so hard his cheeks turned bright pink, and he choked out, "You know, you could probably say a thing or two to the people at my…my parent's church. That'd give them something to think about."

Eventually they calmed down, leaving Aaron clutching at Christian's knees, out of breath but smiling, and Christian's arms wound about his shoulders, thumb stroking at the damp skin on the base of his neck. "Come on," he murmured, moving the blond hair out of his forehead, "Let's get you cleaned up."

Aaron tilted his head to look at Christian and looked at him for a few moments, before holding out his hand. "Sure, let's go."

Christian waited; sat on the edge of the bed with his shirt off, playing with the beaded bracelet he wore on his left wrist. The shower had stopped running a minute ago, and he imagined Aaron running his towel over his damp body, hair spiky after a rough rub. He inhaled through his nose slowly, closing his eyes. Now was not the time to rush things. He would let Aaron move things at his own pace, no dirty talking, definitely nothing kinky. Probably no blow-jobs either, unless he offered.

Christian swallowed as the sound of footsteps neared the bedroom, sweat prickling his palms. Not for the first time he reflected on how ridiculous this was. It had been a week since he got laid, and the worst part of it was that he'd hardly thought about it. A couple of weeks ago he'd have been out on the pull, finding any guy with muscles and a tan to get off on, but now…He groaned; people wouldn't even recognise him.

Aaron appeared in the doorway, towel about his waist; he smiled nervously at Christian, walking in slowly.

"Sit down." Christian says quietly, and scoots back on to the bed to make room. He manoeuvres himself until he is resting with his legs crossed loosely in front of him, and the headboard against his back. Aaron reaches down to pick up his jeans, staring at the fabric in his hand, then drops them back on the floor, straightening with a tiny smile jerking his mouth. With measured movements he comes to sit down on the comforter, running his hands over the fabric in small sweeps. Christian reached out and gripped one of his hands carefully, lacing their fingers together and pulling him toward him. Aaron resists for all of three seconds before shuffling along a little, turning his body to face Christian, who looks at him hopefully.

The silence isn't awkward now, and there's that tiny electric current zapping across the silent air, promising that things are going to be better, because at least that connects them, even if they feel like nothing else does. Christian moves round onto his knees and comes to kneel behind him, letting Aaron's hand go and moving both of his palms to rest against the warm skin of his arms. He doesn't move, waiting for a sign that Aaron is alright with this level of intimacy. When he feels a shift, and the blonde head in front of him roll back slightly, he feels as though his heart might stop it's beating so hard.

"It's alright," he murmurs, his breath making Aaron shiver, his mouth involuntarily letting out a shudder.

Aaron knew what was going to happen. It felt as though everything that had happened over the past couple of months had been leading to this moment, and he had the most wonderful feeling of weightlessness when Christian's warm hands hit his skin.

Suddenly he didn't want to wait anymore, was sick of all the nagging doubts and stomach-churning misery. He reached back and gripped Christian's wrists tightly, pulling them round in front of him so their skin collided with a dirty sounding _smack_. Awkwardly he twisted his head around and searched out Christian's lips, willing, warm and tasting so sinfully good.

Christian leant forward, his tongue darting out to flick across the clean skin of Aaron's mouth and jaw, running his hands down and across the inviting pectoral muscles that jerked and shuddered under his touch.

"_Christian_…" Aaron groaned, and Christian dug his fingers in to his skin, dragging his nails across his body teasingly. With the strength of somebody who had played sports all their life and the hesitant tenderness of a person who had only ever known someone intimately once before, he twisted and pressed Christian back into the mattress.

When he was at the treatment centre, late at night when he lay on the itchy mattress surrounded by sterile walls and disinfectant, Aaron would close his eyes and try to remember how it felt to be touched by another warm human hand. The weeks before he had taken the penknife to his arm, his mother hadn't been able to bring herself to touch him; she could barely even look him in the eye. Throughout all the ice baths, hard labour and nights listening to the sobs of people in the surrounding cells, he'd had one memory of a night when he had felt loved and desirable. He'd been able to forget about the upcoming excommunication, and the shame his family was going to feel. In its place had been a gut twisting desire that haunted his dreams and made him wake up groaning and covered in sweat. He had been terrified that he would talk in his sleep, and the 'doctors' would hear. The one time he had been strapped into the chair for electrode treatment they had shown him image after image; some of naked women, some of children, some of animals, some of men. Aaron tried hard to ignore the flicker of desire that ran through his stomach when a picture of a beautiful man flashed up, but they caught it. The shock they gave him made him gasp, and tears had pricked his eyes when he thought of Christian.

Sometimes when he lay there, he wondered if he would just die here, alone in the tiny room without any light or love to comfort him. He wished he could speak to himself from a week ago and tell himself not to give up hope; that there was someone who still loved and _wanted_ him.

"Aaron?" Christian's voice sounded concerned, and he blinked, realising that he had paused, his body pushed away from Christian's at arms length, his legs outstretched beneath him. Aaron shook his head slightly, cleared his throat and gently lowered himself on top of Christian.

"What is it? Do you wanna stop? We can…I don't mind, really." Vehemently his head shook again, and Aaron reached one hand awkwardly down behind Christian's hair, cupping the back of his skull, and pulled gently up toward him until their lips met again. After a moment he drew back, before leaning down and murmuring, "Christian?"

"Mmm?"

"I…I love you."

**Feedback is welcome, so please review if you have anything you'd like to say.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello readers, welcome to Chapter 3. Thanks to those who have story alerted and favourited this; much appreciated. I'm still trying to iron out the kinks in my writing style while I go along, so thanks for the patience.**

**I promise, after this chapter there will be less angst, I swear!**

**Without further ado, on with the story,**

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><p>Three weeks after Aaron's unexpected arrival things seemed like they were finally beginning to settle into a routine. They both woke up at around six, Aaron went for a run while Christian did a few sit-ups, downed a black coffee and pulled on jeans and a sweater before heading off to do his 'do-gooding' as he termed it. Aaron mentioned it one afternoon as they sat watching '<em>The Creature from the Black Lagoon'<em> and eating popcorn. They'd been trying out ways of sitting and just being close and intimate without freaking Aaron out. Somehow they found that the sexual side wasn't the issue, and it was only once he was on a come down from his orgasm high that Aaron started to get…uncomfortable.

The one they were enjoying at the moment was Aaron sitting in the corner of the couch with his arms spread along the back and sides, so Christian could sneak into the gap and lean gently against him.

"Are you off to do your community stuff tomorrow?" he'd asked softly, his fingers just brushing the tips of Christian's hair. Christian had huffed and nodded.

"It's do-gooding; it makes me feel better about myself and gives someone company. Don't make it sound better than it is." Aaron had twisted to look at him, a frown on his face.

"Don't do yourself down. You're doing something really great – keeping someone happy who maybe doesn't get much enjoyment out of anything else. You're better at that than you think." He said, blushing furiously as Christian looked up at him in surprise. He reached up to cup Aaron's jaw in one hand, and ran a thumb over his bottom lip.

"Are you flattering me Mr Davis? Because that will get you everywhere…"

"Stop it – of course I'm not. I just think that perhaps you don't have much faith in what you're doing, that's all."

_Faith_ – there was that word again, popping up from time to time, thrown out so casually, but loaded with meaning. Christian had ventured the idea of Aaron joining a local church, but he'd flat out rejected it, and they hadn't spoken of it since. The other day he'd had a text from Julie, finally replying to his first couple of frantic texts sent in the first few days after Aaron had come back. She'd apologised profusely of course, and asked about fifteen questions in return, but Christian couldn't bring himself to reply. He knew he was being petty; it was understandable that she'd be busy with the label and all, and New York was a long way away. He just couldn't help but nurse a small and unreasonable feeling of rejection. He'd leave it for a few days before answering her, then he wouldn't be tempted to get snippy and start a fight.

"Hey," he started tentatively, and Aaron looked down at him, smiling. "Have you, uh, thought about going back to church yet?" He felt Aaron stiffen and pull away.

"Why are you bringing this up again?"

"I just…I want you to be happy. And I know being closer to God makes you happy. I'm sorry." Aaron laughed, and the sound was like a fist squeezing Christian's heart.

"Close to God? Do you have any idea how far from that I am? I'm living with another man, sleeping in his bed, not worshipping Him as I should be. I'm so distanced from Him that I might as well not believe at all."

Christian moved away from him and turned to look in his eyes.

"Is that what you really feel? Is being with me so wrong?" He felt himself grow resentful. "You know, you didn't have to come back here. I didn't make you! You could have stayed and carried on your 'treatment' and got married and lived a lie. So why didn't you?"

Aaron was struck dumb for a moment, fear flicking across his face as he saw the anger and pain in Christian's eyes.

"I don't know. I…I just had to."

"Well then stop making me feel bad for wanting this, for wanting _you!_ I know I don't know what I'm doing half the time, I know that. And I swear, I'm being as patient as I can, but I can't take it when you make me feel bad. I haven't done anything wrong, Aaron."

Christian stood up, shaking his head in frustration.

"I'm going out." Aaron made as if to follow him, and half reached out his hand.

"Christian, wait." But Christian shook his head and turned to walk toward the hall. A few seconds later Aaron heard the door shut and dropped his head into his hands. He couldn't work out what was going on in his head. Every day he woke up he had a blissful few seconds of believing he was back in the house with the other guys, or at home with a mother and father that loved him. Each time he realised that he was far from almost everybody he loved it felt like a knife in his heart, and more than once he'd swallowed tears back.

He just couldn't understand this constant anger coursing through his body. He'd never been confrontational, or prone to the stupid panic attacks he'd been having, and as for being cruel…it was unheard of before he left the treatment centre. Aaron heard the way he lashed out at Christian, and felt a whole new level of disgust. He breathed in through his nose and exhaled slowly; he was going to make this whole messed up situation better, no matter what it took.

* * *

><p>Christian sat at the bar, staring down into the vodka and coke he had ordered. He didn't know what to do first; go home and bawl Aaron out before dragging him into bed, or kick himself into next weekend. He shouldn't have pushed, shouldn't have mentioned something he obviously didn't want to talk about. It wasn't like Christian could blame him; rejected by the church that was a central part of his life and disowned by the people that gave birth to him. He'd got a pretty raw deal, all things considered, and once again Christian had that horrible pang of guilt that he seemed to be feeling more and more since they'd met. Guilt over saying insensitive things, not being able to keep his mouth shut, not being able to get used to having to give a shit about somebody else.<p>

But even now, as hurt and angry as he was, Christian could feel a tiny curling bud of love unfurling itself and begin to entwine its leaves about his heart. He was almost glad Julie wasn't here to see this – she would laugh her ass off at him. But then, maybe not. After they had argued over the diary, she had been devastated that she had upset him, and perhaps unfairly he had held it against her for far too long.

He groaned quietly to himself; another fuck-up to add to his list. A voice sounding curiously like his mother's told him in no uncertain terms to _get up, asshole. Go home and apologise. Do not ruin this._

He knocked back the last bit of his drink and zipped up his jacket against the evening breeze, before walking as quickly as he could toward the apartment.

* * *

><p>Aaron switched off the light in the kitchen and went to wait in the front room, hands on knees, suddenly nervous. He heard the lock of the front door click and took a deep, calming breath.<p>

"Aaron?"

"In here." He called. Christian emerged from the shadow of the hall, looking like a kicked puppy dog. Aaron would have laughed, had he not known that his own expression was probably the same.

"I'm sorry." Christian said quietly, and Aaron shook his head.

"You have nothing to be sorry about. I shouldn't have said what I did. I have no excuse; you've been so good to me. I guess I'm still working on it."

They sat side by side, but this time it was Aaron that reached out for Christian's hand and held it tight.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Everything. You…you saved me." Christian snorted and looked away, but Aaron held on tight.

"I'm serious, if I didn't have you, then I'd have nothing."

Another silence, broken by Aaron smiling and getting to his feet.

"I made dinner." Christian looks at him, eyebrows raised.

"You did what?"

"I made dinner. You haven't got a table though, so we might have to eat here."

"You _are_ trying to get in my pants aren't you?"

Aaron shook his head, grinning and went to retrieve the two plates he had set ready on the kitchen counter. Christian took his gratefully and looked down at it; he remembered his Mom making dishes like this when he was a kid. It was all meat, vegetables and potatoes, covered in proper sauce, not ketchup. While he ate Christian looked sideward at Aaron, who seemed to be applying himself whole-heartedly to the meal.

"Where did you learn to cook?"

"Picked stuff up from my mom. I had to cook when I was living with the other guys too, they were pretty useless."

"You must have been the model son." Aaron paused, almost imperceptibly, but carried on.

"I tried. Said my prayers, gave my allowance to the poor, did all my chores, that sort of thing."

"Sounds like you were better than me. I only prayed to be able to get out of town and live my own life." He frowned to himself, "I kind of drifted from my mom when I moved here. She must have always known I was going to leave – she never got angry at me, or made a scene. Just…let me go." Aaron hesitated before reaching out again, knife and fork held in his other hand. Christian rolled his eyes.

"It's alright, seriously. It's just how it is. We talk a little more now, since you came back."

"You told her about me?"

"Well, yeah. I've got a guy living with me, who's just gone through a tough time, and who I totally care about, so I figured my mom would be the best person to talk to about it. For what it's worth," he continued, "she thinks you sound nice and polite. I think she wishes I was more like you." Aaron grinned at Christian's disgruntled expression and carried on eating. Christian smiled and moved the food around his plate, before putting his head to one side and once more interrupting Aaron.

"I think we should get to know each other a little better." Aaron looked at him in surprise.

"We live together, you've seen me naked, and you know I can cook. What else do you need to know?"

"I don't know, stuff. Little things; how do you like your steak cooked, what's your favourite cocktail, when were you born, how old were you when you got your first pet?"

Aaron placed his cutlery on his plate and put it on the floor, drawing one leg up beneath him.

"I don't have it a lot, but medium rare, I don't drink, so cocktails are off, I was born in August 1982, and I was six when we got some fish. My dad has allergies. How about you?"

"Uh, I don't eat red meat, cocktail is a mojito, born February 1979, and I was three when my mom bought a cat. It died."

* * *

><p>After they had cleared up, and Christian had managed to wash, dry and put away all the dishes, they went through to the bedroom and lay down side by side, Christian rolling to face Aaron, pulling his knees up to his chest and tucking his hands underneath his head on the pillow, while Aaron stretched out on his back, hands behind his head and ankles crossed.<p>

"Favourite colour."

"Blue. Yours?"

"Red."

"Figures."

"Hey! First memory."

"Learning excerpts from the Bible with my mom and sister, sitting in a park."

"You have a sister?"

"Yeah. Older than me. What do you remember?"

"Thinking that I wanted to be like James Dean. My mom had a huge crush on him as a kid, we used to watch his films together."

"I remember asking my dad why he died, and he told me it was because he led an unclean lifestyle. I didn't know it was a motor accident until I was about thirteen."

"Live fast, die young, I guess."

"Yeah." In the silence that followed Christian pulled himself up onto his elbow and leant over to brush a kiss over Aaron's mouth. Aaron sighed softly and wrapped his arms around Christian's back, parting his lips slightly and shifting closer to him. After a few seconds, and before things could get too heated, Christian pulled off and moved to his earlier position.

"Favourite food?" he asked, enjoying the sight of Aaron's cheeks coloured pink, and his lips swollen.

"I…uh…spaghetti and meat sauce."

"Caesar Salad."

Christian reached out a hand and ran it slowly over the band of skin showing below Aaron's shirt. He felt him tense and heard the small huff of breath escape his lips, and carried on feeling the lines of muscle and skin drawn over his torso.

"Favourite music?"

"B…Beethoven. And Stevie Wonder."

"Really? Sounds like you're too cultured for a boy like me."

"Sh…shut up, I can't concentrate when you're doing that."

"Doing what? What am I doing?"

"T…touching me."

"If you don't like it just tell me to stop." Christian whispered, and Aaron nearly came undone when he looked over at him, all lidded eyes and messed hair. He tried to talk, but a groan escaped his lips instead. Christian moved up alongside him, the length of his body pressed up against his side.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to," he breathed, "you just look so good lying there."

Aaron took in the teeth grazing the bottom lip and the curls falling almost into his eyes, and reached out to grab him roughly, moving their bodies so they lined up perfectly, desperate for some friction.

"Don't you dare stop!" he groaned against Christians jaw, and reached for his hand, guiding it round to his front.

It was times like this that Christian was glad Julie wasn't around.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed it! Do leave a review if you have feedback!<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Apologies for the lengthy delay! I give you chapter 4 – out of season, I know, but this brings us neatly to the final scene of the film, and the Thanksgiving dinner. Feedback is gratefully appreciated.**

**N.B: I personally don't hold any great anger or anything toward the LDS Church; I'm just using my artistic license to try to empathise with how Aaron (or someone in his situation) might feel after his rejection and excommunication. I hope this doesn't offend anybody.**

**N.B. 2: I don't own this film, or the characters, just in case you hadn't guessed.**

* * *

><p>"You know, it's Thanksgiving next week." Aaron looked over the top of his book at Christian and raised an eyebrow.<p>

"Yeah, and?"

"I thought it might be good if we, you know, did something."

Aaron put the book down and sighed.

"Did you have something in mind?"

"Well, Lila does this dinner every year for the staff, right? Julie's coming back for it, and she wants to know if you wanted to join us this year."

Aaron was silent for a moment, jaw moving slightly as he considered it.

"Like your date?" Christian huffed slightly.

"Don't make it sound like I'm parading you. We do _live_ together, and, you know…"

"Alright." Christian looked at him, eyes narrowed slightly.

"Alright? What does that mean?" Aaron sighed, dropping his book on the sofa.

"It means yes. Yes I will be your 'date', or whatever."

Christian grinned, leaning over to place a kiss on Aaron's cheek.

"Awesome, I'll tell Lila."

* * *

><p>Aaron looked at the small selection of clothes hanging up in the wardrobe and grimaced. His entire combined clothing consisted of two pairs of jeans, some black trousers and his heavy black boots.<p>

Earlier that day he'd found the white shirts he'd automatically balled up and shoved in the little side pocket of the bag. He'd paused for around ten seconds before he'd ripped them seam from seam, tearing and destroying this part of him that had defined and trapped him for so long.

After breathing in and out deeply, he'd walked to the kitchen and thrown them in the trash can, nodding in a kind of morbidly satisfied way. He'd not told Christian; how would that have sounded? _Sorry, I had a freak out over some white cotton?_ Stupid.

Flicking through Christian's clothes he let his fingers drift over a purple shirt, too demure for the outgoing, shorts wearing guy he knew, and a colour he himself had barely ever worn. He took it off the hanger and smiled when he realised that the tags were still attached, touching the still-bold lettering on the cardboard label.

Grinning at the door, where he could hear Christian sing as he showered, he shucked the t-shirt he was wearing and undid the buttons. Aaron caught sight of his in the mirror and frowned. The marks and mottled patches from the treatment centre had mostly faded now, and the scars from the razor blade stood out pale and raised from the otherwise smooth skin.

_Great. Now I look like some depressed teenager._

"Watcha looking at?" Christian said over his shoulder, making Aaron jump.

"You scared me!"

"Sorry. I just caught sight of you wearing just your pants and what can I say? I was captivated." Christian grinned and kissed him on the cheek before searching his catastrophe of a drawer for clean underwear. Aaron grimaced at the socks and pants spilling out onto the floor.

"Are you always this messy?" Christian raised both eyebrows at him, shaking his head in feigned pity.

"Oh, you church boys; always judging us for everything. You think _this_ is messy? You're freaking lucky you weren't around when it was just me and Julie."

Aaron sighed, turning away to hide the smile that was threatening to creep over his face. Christian ghosted his hand over Aaron's ass and pressed his lips to his shoulder, before walking over the wardrobe and rifling through his own, unorganised clothes.

"I borrowed your purple shirt. Do you mind?" Christian shook his head vaguely, and Aaron had the distinct impression that he wasn't even looking at him, and tutted as he slipped the cool fabric over his arms. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and smiled a little; _not bad actually…_

"There's a jacket on the bed."

"What?" Christian turned round and gestured to the bed deliberately.

"There, on the bed. If you want to wear it."

Aaron buttoned up the shirt and surveyed the item laid out over the covers. A well-cut, dark charcoal grey jacket, too broad across the chest for Christian, and a little too short in the arms.

"Where did you get this?" he asked, a little bubble of something rising in his chest.

"That? I've had it for ages. Doesn't fit."

There, that remark said over casually, and the determination of Christian not to meet his eye, confirmed his suspicions. The fabric smelt vaguely of the wrappings it would have come back from the store in, and Aaron could not believe how…_happy_ he felt over a piece of clothing. It fit him beautifully; framing his sides without clinging, and skimming the length of his arms without being that little too short. This was the kind of tailoring that cost money his father would never have allowed back home; that was money that could go to the church, or others less fortunate. He'd always assumed he meant flashy, nasty clothes and jewellery, but this, this wasn't trashy, or too bright. There wasn't any designer label on it, and it didn't make him feel different, or sinful. Aaron was inclined to think that this was definitely an exception to that rule. He looked over to the man cursing at the state of his wardrobe, struggling to hang up fallen bits of clothing and sorting the shoes stacked up on each other.

He walked up behind Christian and placed his hands on his hips. Christian leant back against his chest and let their cheeks rest together.

"You like it?" Aaron murmured, enjoying the effect his words had. Christian's eyes drifted shut a little, and he shivered, before turning round, mouth pulling up at the sight of him.

"Well, you look hot." Aaron blushed and smiled self deprecatingly.

"It's just a jacket."

"That 'just a jacket' makes me think about doing _awful_ things to you."

"You're such a…horn dog."

"A horn dog? Are we back in the 50's or something?"

"Were you thinking of getting dressed? Or should I go on my own? I'd be at the mercy of your friend…what's his name?"

"I'll get my pants."

* * *

><p>Running a little late, Christian and Aaron walked as quickly as they could down toward the restaurant. At the busiest crossing they waited, Christian shifting impatiently from foot to foot as they waited for the light to turn green. Seeing the traffic slow as it approached them, he anticipated the change too soon and went to step out, unaware of the car fast approaching, hoping to just make it through. Aaron saw though, and with his heart in his mouth leant forward to grab onto his arm and pull him back with such strength that he nearly overbalanced. His face darkened, and he was about to say something when the car in question rocketed past, ruffling his hair as it went. He looked at Aaron, pale faced, and his cheeks turned a dull shade of pink.<p>

"Uh, thanks." He said, looking down at the toes of his good shoes like a child. As the lights turned fully Christian shyly reached for his hand, gently twining their fingers together. Aaron's palm twitched, but he fought the urge to pull away, to hide, because _you're just a dirty fag, away from the light of God's love_. He looked over at Christian, head held high, and tightened his grip.

Julie stepped through the door of the restaurant, sunglasses pushed up on to her head, smiling at the familiar surroundings. She put her case down on the ground and grinned as Lila's voice drifted out from the kitchen.

"If you want to eat tonight, I suggest you continue mashing those potatoes. Idle gossip is best served after the main course."

Lila rolled her eyes at the giggling waiting staff and turned to exit the kitchen, pulling out her BlackBerry as she did. She sent a couple of email replies before she looked up to see Julie stood there, eyebrow raised, a grin on her face.

"Don't I even get a hello?"

"Julie, why on earth are you just stood there? There is cranberry sauce that needs sweetening and serving up, and the Turkey platter could do with a wash. So pardon me if I don't have time for special treatments." As Julie's face fell a little and she hurried to do what she was told, Lila reached out a hand and touched her briefly on the back of the arm.

"It's good to see you."

Julie beamed, and pushed her way through the swinging doors, to the sounds of shrieks of excitement from the others.

* * *

><p>Aaron stuck close by Christian as they walked in, heart warming when he spotted Lila nursing a large Gin and Tonic and sitting by the bar.<p>

"Darlings!" She opened her arms wide and walked over to them, holding Aaron tightly and watching Christian over his shoulder. He shrugged an answer to her unspoken question and she nodded, smiling at him.

Julie brought out the wine glasses, three balanced in each hand as she hummed happily to herself. She faltered at the sight of Aaron, stood in quiet conversation with Lila, Christian stood with one hand laid on his lower back, nodding along with something Lila said. Something in her stomach snagged and twisted at the sight of them. Aaron looked at Christian out of the corner of his eye, and there was something so undeniably tender about his expression that Julie looked away. This was one moment definitely not meant to be watched.

Christian broke away from the conversation and made his way over to her. They looked at each other for a second, and all the accusations and apologies and things they never said properly hung there for a minute, until Christian held out his arms. She fell into them and buried her head against his neck, breathing in his smell.

"'m sorry." She whispered, and he hummed, the skin over his Adam's apple vibrating against her forehead.

"'S'alright. Guess your fuck-up kind of helped." She looked up at him hopefully, and he winked down at her.

"Now come on, let's get in there before Andrew throws a fit."

* * *

><p>In the kitchen Andrew shamelessly dragged his eyes up and down Aaron's body, and gave Christian a look of envy. As they dished up the greens he looked at him.<p>

"So, what, you're love's young dream now?" Christian elbowed him hard in the side as he reached for the lid to the tureen.

"Does it piss you off that I'm happy?" Andrew snorted, grabbing the salt and pepper from the shelf.

"No, it's your life. It's just weird seeing you being all dreamy and shit. Though it's sure as hell better than watching you mope all over him."

Christian tutted and shook his head, grabbing a towel to pick up the hot bowl, twisting his body automatically as Julie reached for the pot of sauce behind him.

"When you've finished your little audition speech for bitch of the year let me know. In the meantime, I'm kinda hungry, so I'm going to go ahead and take some of this food out. Coming?" He ducked to avoid the towel flicked at his head and laughed as he walked toward the door. Aaron flattened against the wall as he came past, grinning at Christian's "Hot stuff, coming through!".

Andrew swept past with the potatoes, and then all that was left was the turkey, sitting glistening on the platter. He picked it up, surprised at its weight, and turned toward the door. When he'd elbowed it open he stood for a split second, looking at the people sat about the table, squabbling and laughing like a real family. He carried it in and laughed when Christian and Andrew argued about where it should sit, Lila finally telling them both to stop their nonsense and move the vegetables further down. She stood and cleared her throat deliberately, and the chatter fell silent.

"A toast." She said, sincerely. "An affirmation. A prayer of thanks. I want you to know that wherever we find ourselves in this world, whatever our successes and failures, come this time of year you will always have a place at my table…and a place in my heart."

Aaron definitely saw more than one tear and heard more than one sniff as they raised their glasses to her.

And as the turkey was carved, and the vegetables passed around, accompanied by jokes and stories, he couldn't help thinking that, though everything was still a mass of dots, more and more these days they all felt…connected. And it was beautiful. And funny. And good.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yes, yes, I know. The last bit wasn't mine. I just loved the lines in the film so much that I couldn't help but steal them.**

**I know there are imperfections in this chapter, but if you have anything to say about this please let me know!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Big apologies to those who have been following/reading this – I've had the busiest 2/3 months ever – work has been busy busy, and I moved into my first ever flat (so I'm properly grown-up now) a few weeks ago, so writing has more or less been at the bottom of my life, bar a couple of speedily written one-shots. I will try and focus properly now, promise.**

**So, I'm actually going to take it past the dinner – let me know what you think. I hope some of you still read this, and are interested in it; it's a difficult one to gauge! It's horribly out of season – doesn't help when you're trying to imagine the Christmas Spirit, does it? Still, after this I anticipate a time gap of a few months, so maybe we'll catch up with ourselves.**

* * *

><p>Christian sighed as the bowl slipped from his hands and smashed against the tiles of the floor, sauce splashed darkly across the white surface. Andrew stared at him, eyebrows raised.<p>

"God, what's the matter with you today? You've been knocking into everything!" Christian glared at him as he reached up to grab the cloth and mop up the worst of the mess. He ignored the chef's protestation behind him and put the whole sorry mess in the bin.

"Nothing, I'm just a little edgy, that's all." Andrew stared at him again, blinking.

"Well, yeah. What's going on?"

Leaning back against the counter and sighing, Christian shrugged.

"I don't know, I just feel…tired. Like I need to sleep for a year."

Andrew nodded, narrowing his eyes. "You need a vacation." Christian rolled his eyes, easing out the cricks in his neck and shoulders.

"Right, because I've got a couple of hundred dollars just lying around and waiting to be spent."

"Don't be an ass, you get what I mean. You guys could probably do with getting away, right? I mean, you've had a weird few months."

_Weird,_ Christian thinks, _weird and stressful, but life-changing in a good way_.

"Yeah, I guess."

Lila poked her head in and frowned at the sight of them standing there.

"Boys, far be it from me to dictate how you conduct yourselves, but would you mind getting back to work? I have several hungry patrons who are definitely losing their patience."

Mumbling apologies, they picked up the remaining plates, Christian taking a newly refilled one from the sulking chef. As they went to walk through the door Andrew turned to him, a strangely sincere look on his face.

"Look, my grandma has this house out not too far from Key West. Since she moved in with my mom, it's empty. So if you want I could get the keys for you. You could just hang there for a few days." Seeing the look on Christian's face he coughed and flushed slightly. "Well, whatever, it's there if you want it."

* * *

><p>When he got home later, Aaron was showered and wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a t-shirt, snoozing in front of the television. He'd had an interview earlier that day at a faith-based organisation specialising in raising funds for community charities. He'd been so nervous the night before, tossing and turning in bed, that Christian had finally turned the light back on and listened to him worry about it for over an hour until he talked himself to sleep, around half one in the morning.<p>

Christian crept quietly to the bedroom, toeing off his shoes and stripping off his shirt to throw in the laundry basket Aaron insisted they used properly. The whole bedroom seemed tidier now, even with more stuff in there now. The first Christmas card, from Julie, sat on the chest of drawers, and Christian smiled at the sight of their names joined together at the top.

Christmas. The day when he normally just sat with friends and ate way too much, before getting drunk in the evening and crashing into bed like any other night. What the hell were you supposed to do when you're actually _living_ with somebody? Somebody you're fucking.

"Christian?"

He looked round the edge of the door to see Aaron awake, elbows on knees, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Hey."

"Everything alright?" Christian nodded, smiling reassuringly at him. Aaron seemed to be a compulsive worrier at the moment, texting whenever he could on the cell they'd bought him a few weeks ago.

"Sure it is, yeah. Did you want a drink or something to eat?" Aaron shook his head and stretched, exposing that oh-so-tempting toned stomach that Christian was very studiously trying to ignore. After a pause;

"What do you do at Christmas?" he blurted out, face burning in embarrassment. Aaron looked at him as though he'd lost his mind, and shrugged, face bemused.

"What do _you_ do at Christmas?" Aaron asked back, running his hand through his hair in the way that meant he was pretty damn confused.

"I mean, like, do you have a tree and all that stuff?"

Aaron blinked at him.

"Well, yeah. I mean, we…Mormons don't believe Jesus wasn't actually born on Christmas Day, but it's a good time to have fun and reaffirm, right?"

Christian had vague, boring recollections of religious studies back at school, and as far as he could remember, the whole point of 25th December was that Jesus was born in the manger after the donkey thing in Bethlehem. _Though_, he recollected, _I was normally staring at Shaun Peterson's ass, so perhaps I'm getting mixed up somewhere._

"Hold on, what about the star and wise men and all that?"

Aaron shrugged, the passive, slightly pained half-smile he got when religion was brought up spread across his face.

"I'm not sure. Can we not talk about it now?" The voice so like his father's spoke up, cold and firm; _You gotta talk about it sometime, Aaron Davies,_ it said, _because he has a right to ask, and you can't go on trying to pretend like none of that stuff ever happened. You've fallen by the way, boy. Dust is gathering on the copy of the Holy Book you can't bring yourself to look at._

"Sure, sorry." Aaron's heart sank when he saw Christian feeling bad for bringing it up.

"No, it's cool. Forget it. Did you have something you wanted to do for it?"

Christian shrugged a little, adorably dorky looking, and Aaron's heart did a little squirm of delight.

"It's stupid, don't worry."

"No, c'mon, tell me." Aaron got up, walked closer to him and wrapped his arms about Christian's waist, tugging him a little closer until they were pressed torso to torso, almost sharing breath. Christian relaxed a little, bringing his arms around Aaron's neck and twisting his mouth to one side.

"I…uh…Chris' grandma has a house near, uh, Key West." Aaron thought for a moment, thumb stroking the fabric of Christian's t-shirt. "Florida?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that's great for her, I guess." Christian rolled his eyes and tapped him on the shoulder. "No, idiot. She's had to move in with Chris' mom or something, and he says if we wanted to, we could crash there for a few days."

Aaron blinked, mind processing what Christian was saying.

"Hang on, you mean a vacation?"

"That's normally what you call going away, isn't it?"

Aaron pinched him lightly, grinning. "Yeah, thanks for that, smart mouth."

Christian leaned forward and brushed his lips over Aaron's, relishing the small breath he let out at the touch.

"Well? You wanna go?" Aaron smiled, the shape of his mouth just right for Christian to trace with his tongue. He hummed pleasurably and nodded, sliding his hands underneath Christian's shirt, dipping just below the waistband to feel the very top of the curve of his ass before tugging him in the general direction of the bed. Christian grinned; _gotta make this one freaking awesome Christmas now…_

* * *

><p>Aaron walked around the department store, eyes glazing a little as he tried to take in everything. The money in his wallet wasn't going to be nearly enough to cover an expensive bottle of cologne, or some beautiful piece of clothing. His mom and dad had always said that they didn't need expensive presents or material things; they just wanted him hardworking and happy.<p>

_Happy. Such a simple word for such a complicated emotion._

"Can I help you, sir?" a smiling, pretty shop assistant said, unconsciously straightening her shirt and stepping just a little too close to him. Aaron shifted awkwardly. What could he say to that? _Sure, just stop me from feeling like an idiot all the time. I've never bought somebody I'm sharing a bed with._

"I, uh, I'm looking for a present for someone." She nodded her head as though, duh, that was obvious.

"For your wife, girlfriend, mother?" she prompted when he wasn't forthcoming with details. Aaron blinked at her, the temptation to lie almost too much.

_Just who are you lying to? There's nobody around here that cares, and God can already see into your heart; you have no secrets from Him._

"Uh, no, no. I'm looking for something for my…my…"

The girl looked vaguely disappointed for a second, but smiled ruefully at him.

"Boyfriend, sir?" Aaron nodded.

"Well, what kind of thing does he like? Aftershave? Cologne? Golf? Computer Games?"

Aftershave was a no-go; Christian was forever complaining that he had sensitive skin, and liked to use a moisturiser. Golf? The idea of him holding a golf club and wearing the chequered pants was enough to bring a smile to Aaron's face. As for computer games…Christian had recently busted his latest laptop by dropping orange juice all over the keyboard.

"Uh…he likes…the sun, and, uh, dancing, and…movies."

The girl looked at him, non-plussed.

"Has he mentioned anything he wants? Anything at all?"

Aaron sighed; This was going to take longer than he thought.

* * *

><p>"Hey girl!" Christian exclaimed when he threw open the door to the apartment. Julie grinned, arms automatically wrapping around his neck as he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close. "I thought you were going up to see your mom?"<p>

"Flight doesn't leave till nine thirty, so I got a couple of hours to spend with my best friend." Christian grinned and kissed her firmly on the cheek before letting her go and turning to walk to the kitchen. "You want a beer?"

"Sure thing, if you got some."

Settled in the front room Julie gazed about, eyebrows raised at the sight of the magazines neatly stacked on the table, the dust from the top of the television removed, and the cushions neatly laid against the back of the couch.

"Man, he really has you whipped, huh?"

"Fuck you!" he said, without any heat, and she giggled, taking a sip of the cold beer.

She knew things would change a little, now that Aaron was here; things always did when relationships were involved. She realised, with not a little amount of shame, that she had always relied on Christian's shallow nature to make sure things stayed the same. He'd never had a relationship past a week in all the years she'd known him, and she thought he'd been happy that way:. Fabulous, easygoing Christian, always up for a laugh, a drink, a joint, and never one to pull you down with the serious shit.

"So, how are things with you? Enjoying being one half of a couple?" Christian thought about it for a second, a small smile playing about his lips. Eventually he looked back at her, a little abashed.

"You know what? I never thought I'd say this, but I actually am. I don't mind that he forever reminds me to do my freaking laundry, or that he won't have a beer with me. I don't get pissed at him when he doesn't want to put out all the time; I don't know, it's just…good, I guess."

Julie nodded. "Got it pretty bad then, huh?"

Christian nodded.

"Yeah, I really have."

* * *

><p>The day before Christmas Eve Christian hit the stores again, hoping beyond hope that today would be the day he finally found something suitable-but-not-too-shallow for Aaron.<p>

_So, I need something for my sweet, guy-next-door boyfriend who's been living with me for nearly three months. Something not too materialistic (no jewellery), sexual (no dirty toys), or super gay (no rainbow coloured t-shirt). Huh._

His eyes flicked over to the Starbucks sign glowing warmly in the corner of his eye, and with a sigh headed inside to think a little more over a large black Americano.

* * *

><p>Aaron folded his clothes neatly; socks paired and tucked into the corner, underpants folded twice and laid on top of each other. After that the jeans, sweaters and shirts went in alongside his wash bag. Sitting next to the case on the bed he frowned. These clothes probably weren't what Christian would term 'vacation clothes'. He rarely wore shorts unless it was for sports or running, and tight t-shirts had never really been on his agenda.<p>

But perhaps it was time for something a little different. Maybe with his new life should come material change. Closing the case, he picked up the clothes Christian so carelessly threw on the floor and surveyed them thoughtfully.

* * *

><p>At four am on Christmas Eve, Aaron elbowed Christian gently in the ribs and chuckled to himself when Christian made it quite clear what he thought of the wake up.<p>

"C'mon, we gotta get up. Flight leaves at 7.00 remember?"

Christian groused and stuck one foot outside the bed clothes, groaning at the cool air against his skin.

"Why the fuck are we going so early?" Aaron rolled to lie against him, lips pressed against his shoulder, hand going lower beneath the covers, enough to make Christian sigh and stir a little to lie on his back.

Aaron dropped a gentle kiss on his nose, smiling when Christian offered his mouth up willingly. Aaron looked through his eyelashes in the way he'd found Christian couldn't resist, lowered his head again, brushing against those tempting lips, until he hovered by his ear.

"Get up."

Christian pouted all the way to the airport in the back of the taxi. Aaron snickered softly as he was shot sulky looks occasionally, reaching out and squeezing his knee semi-apologetically.

"Hey, I'm sorry, okay?" he laughed, and Christian relented reluctantly.

"Fine. I forgive you, but only because it's Christmas."

They pulled up at the drop-off area and Aaron dragged the cases from the trunk while Christian paid the fare.

"Have you got rocks in here or something? These are crazy heavy."

Christian preened dramatically, grinning at the affectionate eye-roll Aaron gave him.

"You should never ask a lady what's in her bag." He said coyly, and Aaron huffed out a laugh and pulled the handles of the suitcases up until they were extended, and began to drag them into the main concourse.

* * *

><p>The first flight to Key West was quiet; just a couple of students and single people travelling home for the holidays. Aaron put the bags in the locker and sat down, taking out his headphones, book and bottle of water to spread out over his lap.<p>

Christian sat as close as he could to the window, flicking the hood of his jacket up around his ears to cushion against the cold plastic. Aaron took a moment while he was preoccupied with the jacket to gaze at Christian.

_Three months of freedom and support deserves more than any present I could ever give him. Weeks of being myself, of not having to pray constantly to be changed or improved. Weeks where I could wake up and actually look forward to what lay in store for me throughout the day._

"What are you staring at? Have I got something on my face?" Aaron smiled at Christian so tenderly Christian's pulse started racing and _am I blushing? God, I'm thirteen again._

"Nothing, you just look…cute."

Christian scoffed a disbelieving laugh, biting back the smile twitching the corners of the mouth.

"Whatever. I need a nap or I'm gonna be super pissy later."

As the stewards went through the safety routine, Aaron reached over and brushed the backs of his fingers over Christian's hand that lay against his leg as he dozed. The fingers twitched and entwined themselves with his, holding them loosely against the warmth of his skin. Aaron smiled and put his head back against the seat, breathing in deeply.

* * *

><p>Key West Airport was pleasantly warm and busy. Really, really busy. Christian made a face of irritation as he was elbowed out the way by a rushing family going toward passport control.<p>

"What the fuck are all these people doing here? It's Christmas; shouldn't they be sitting at home having family time or something?" Aaron shrugged, eyes scanning for the exit and bus station.

"Guess they're going on vacation too. C'mon, let's find the bus."

The bus was similarly crowded, and Aaron found himself wedged up against a heavily muscled man wearing a tight wife-beater and a thin cardigan. He winked lasciviously at Aaron when he grabbed Christian round the waist to stop him from falling.

"He's cute. So are you actually. Doing anything later?"

Christian whipped his head round when he heard the voice and glared at the guy; _freaking creep, hands off!_

"Hey, asshole, stay the fuck away from my boyfriend!" The guy raised his hands in mock-defence, eyes dragging the length of Aaron's body as he smirked.

"I won't lay a hand on your man, don't worry gorgeous. I'll be down at Bar Med later if you wanted to pop in."

Aaron sighed as Christian's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to retort.

This was going to be an uncomfortable journey.

* * *

><p>Christian fumbled with the keys to the door, swearing as he gave it a shove. He'd fumed all the way from the bus stop and up the road. Aaron had kept quiet, doubting he could say anything helpful.<p>

The door finally swung open, and Christian stumbled across the threshold, case skittering in behind him. Aaron followed behind him, appraising the surroundings. For an old woman, Andrew's grandma sure had taste: the wallpaper was a neutral pale gold and the carpets an inoffensive pale green. It didn't even have that musty…_old person_ smell he associated with visiting his own grandmother in the nursing home.

"It's great." He said aloud, and Christian grunted as he pulled the case into the nearest bedroom and dumped it unceremoniously on the bed. Aaron found the little kitchen, neat, pristine and nearly empty, and thanked his lucky stars that there was still a kettle. _Coffee_, he thought, and remembered the small pot he'd brought with him for exactly this eventuality.

Walking into the bedroom he found Christian pulling clothes from his case with far more force than was necessary and throwing them into open drawers. Aaron leant against the doorjamb and cleared his throat. Christian looked up, a scowl on his face.

"What?"

"Do you want a coffee?"

"No."

Aaron rolled his eyes and walked the short distance between them, reaching his hands out to rest on Christian's hips.

"Alright, what's got your panties in a bunch?" Christian shrugged, and Aaron leant round him to take the clothes out of his hands, trapping them between his own.

"Is this about the guy on the bus?"

Christian tensed; Aaron felt it from the set of the shoulders braced against his chest, and turned him round to face him.

"I'm an adult you know. You don't need to wrap me in cotton wool." Christian let his shoulders drop and huffed an irritated breath out.

"Yeah, but he was _all over_ you, and I don't know…I just, didn't like it."

Aaron blinked.

"Are you _jealous_?" Christian made a non-committal noise and looked away. Aaron gently grabbed hold of his chin and bought his face round to look at him. "I don't need to be protected, Christian."

Christian pulled his head away and frowned again.

"You don't get it. You don't know what guys are like, and I should know; I used to be one of them. They "equate sex with a handshake," remember?" Aaron let out a realisatory _hmm_ at the memory of their first almost-encounter.

"I'm not gonna go home with any of them, if that's what you're worried about." He said softly, and Christian didn't reply.

"Is that what this is really about? You think that because I did stuff with you, I'm going to jump into bed with some other guy?"

Christian realised how it sounded and winced.

"Not like that, I don't think you'd cheat. I just…know how these guys are, and I don't want anything to happen to you. This whole thing was my fault; I pulled you away from your family and your friends, and I couldn't stand it if you got hurt because of me."

Aaron looked at him; saw the guilt and doubt in his face, and leant in to brush his mouth against the stubble on Christian's jaw.

"I swear to you, nothing is going to take me away from you. You didn't cause any of the stuff that's happened…well, not the bad stuff anyway. If it wasn't you I kissed it would have been somebody else, and my parents made their decision about what I should do. You wouldn't have sent me to that place, would you? You gave me a home and something to live for, so I don't wanna hear any of that junk again, you understand?"

Christian blinked, irritated at the stupid tears that threatened at the back of his eyes. He nodded and leant his head against Aaron's, tilting his nose until he could breathe in the scent of shampoo and travel.

"Sorry." He said into Aaron's hair, and Aaron shook his head carefully, bringing a hand up to his waist and pulling him in closer.

"Nothing to be sorry about. Now, did you want that coffee or not?"

Christian nodded and instantly felt the loss of the warm body as Aaron gently pulled away and walked toward the door. As he walked down the hallway he called back;

"Stop looking at my butt, pervert."

* * *

><p>"I can't believe we're going for take-out on Christmas Eve." Laughed Aaron, and Christian looked at him in surprise.<p>

"What? You've never done this? It was a tradition when I was a kid, and I think I've done it every year since I left home. Well, except for one year, but that wasn't my fault. Got mugged coming back from the Christmas Party at _OUTrageous_ in town on the 23rd; had my jaw wired for like two weeks. Not so great."

Aaron stared at him.

"What?" Christian shrugged, "It was like four years ago now. Jaw's fine, I promise." He said, wiggling his eyebrows provocatively at Aaron, who went as pink as the shirt on the guy that walked past.

"Wanna say it any louder?" Aaron said, and Christian laughed.

"Sweetie, look around. We're in Key West, not Ohio. We're pretty conservative compared to some of them. I spent a year here when I turned eighteen. There's not really anything I haven't seen. Or want to see again, actually."

They stopped at a Chinese in the middle of town, and Aaron pored over the menu. He'd had it once before, and that was when he'd moved into the house with the guys. His dad never went for foreign food, always preferred good solid American home made stuff.

"What're you having?" he said, trying to buy time. Christian cocked his head to one side and pursed his lips, grinning when he saw it.

"Oh god. Definitely having Satay Chicken. And maybe some Chow Mein. I can have that, right? It's Christmas. Christmas is for carbs. What do you want?"

"I…uh…I don't know. I've only had it once." Christian gaped at him.

"Is that a Mormon thing?"

"Not strictly, no, it's a 'my dad' thing. Didn't like food that wasn't American." Christian snorted.

"Right, as if half our food doesn't originate from somewhere else anyway. Come on, I'll order you something."

Aaron stared at the plate on his lap.

"What did you say this is again?" Through a mouthful of chow mein, Christian mumbled expressively, gesturing.

"What?" Aaron chuckled, brow furrowed.

"I said," Christian swallowed his mouthful and grinned, "It's beef foo-yung. Egg."

Aaron poked it dubiously.

"I promise, it's good."

Wrinkling his nose, Aaron speared a small piece and bought it to his mouth, chewing slowly and concentrating. After a moment he opened his eyes and smiled.

"Not bad, actually."

Christian winked before flicking over the channel, to find 'White Christmas' playing. He grinned and tucked his feet up onto the couch, wiggling his toes behind the cushions as he quickly finished the last mouthful of food and put the plate on the coffee table.

After it had been playing for nearly half an hour Christian tore his eyes away to look at Aaron.

"You okay?"

_Yes, of course I'm okay_, Aaron wanted to say, _watching you give something your full attention is one of my favourite things to do. I'm okay because you have made me okay. You're everything I thought I'd never have, and shouldn't want, and I want to show you that I can adapt to your world too._

"Yeah, just remembering the movie; I've not seen it in years."

"Well, why don't you come and remember it over here? I got room on the couch and I _swear_ I won't perve on you. Unless you want me to."

Aaron laughed at him; a proper _you're such an idiot but I don't care because I love you _laugh, and after a moments hesitation, pulled his t-shirt off over his head as he walked over to insert himself in the space remaining on the small couch. Christian opened his mouth, a comment on his lips, but closed it tight, instead moving over so he could feel Aaron's heat through the back of his thin shirt, and breathed out languorously through his nose as he felt a hand brush the skin at the base of his spine, twitching the material out of the way. He snuck a look at Aaron and his heart beat faster as he saw the colour of Aaron's cheeks intensify a little, and the set of his jaw get a little squarer as he pointedly did _not_ look at Christian.

_A-ha, I get what you're doing. Two can play at that game, Davies_, he thought, and flashed a wicked smile in his direction as he let his foot creep awkwardly out from behind the cushions and into Aaron's lap, twisting his body to face him fully.

Aaron cleared his throat at the new feeling, but kept his eyes transfixed on the screen, humming along to the songs occasionally. The fingertips that brushed Christians back pulled back from their position and skimmed up the skin on his ribs, rewarded by an almost inaudible gasp and shiver.

"I just love this movie, don't you?" Christian purrs, using the heel of his foot to grind seductively into Aaron's crotch.

"Mm-hmm, a holiday classic, definitely." He replied, getting the familiar flickering in the base of his stomach. His hand moved to the top of the rib cage and paused for a moment, waiting for what he knew was coming. Christian stayed absolutely still for a moment, until he swallowed and looked across at Aaron, pupils blown and lips parted.

Aaron didn't say a word; just removed Christian's feet from his lap, stood and held out a hand to him.

"Come on."

* * *

><p>When Christian awoke the next morning at eight he found the bed next to him empty. Groaning, he flicked the covers back and reached for a sweater, reaching his glasses. Aaron had been horrified when he said he hadn't been to get his eyes checked out for at least four years. He'd made the appointment himself, and gone with him to make sure he didn't back out or cancel. The optician had said he was slightly short-sighted, and wearing glasses would help. He and Aaron argued about it all the way home, and they finally compromised when Christian begrudgingly said he would wear contact lenses during the week and glasses at the weekend.<p>

The sound of carols drifted out of the front room, and when he poked his head in he saw Aaron, wearing knee-length fitted shorts and a t-shirt that definitely flattered his figure.

_Well, it looks like I've been a good boy this year…_

"Hey sleepy," called Aaron, bowl and whisk in hand.

"How long have you been up for Pete's sake?" Christian groused, and Aaron shrugged.

"I don't know, maybe two hours. I can't sleep on Christmas."

"I'm dating a kid. Seriously? You're like, what? Twenty four?"

"Twenty three, actually."

"Have you been to the store?"

"Yeah; 24 hour mini-mart round the block. Pancakes, in case you were wondering."

After a cup of hot chocolate and the pancakes ("_what? Don't look at me like that; we don't have a coffee machine, and I am not buying instant.")_ Christian went to shower, and Aaron pulled Christian's gift out of the case and laid it by the small fireplace, grinning.

Christian came in from the bedroom, hair still damp, a package in hand. His eye was caught by the new object in the room, and he walked over to investigate it curiously. Aaron tensed slightly, feigning distraction in the form of his sci-fi novel.

"What's this?" Aaron looked up from his book and grinned.

"A sock. Looks like Santa's been, huh?"

Christian stared at him in disbelief as he clutched the brightly coloured fabric in one hand and the small, wrapped parcel in the other.

"I haven't had a sock since I was eight, Aaron."

_Hmmm_-ing vaguely, Aaron hid his face with the paperback, grinning behind it.

The gentle _thunk_ on the couch told him that either Christian had discarded it or laid it there to get a better look. When he heard the first rustle and tear of fabric he breathed a soft sigh of relief. Daring a peek over the top he saw Christian gazing at the small nutcracker toy he held in his hand.

"Where did you get this?" he murmured, and Aaron put the novel down and walked over to him, wrapping his arms around his waist.

"That's my secret. Do you like it?" Christian nodded mutely, and Aaron squeezed him gently.

"I had one of these as a kid. My grandma gave it to me before she died." Aaron nodded into his neck and kissed the soft skin there.

"I know, I found the picture of you holding it when you were little."Christian gripped Aaron's hands tightly and swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Thank you. Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas, Christian."

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed it, as unseasonal as it is!<strong>

**Next chapter: Aaron starts a new job.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: So, once again, it's been way too long – sorry! And I just re-read Chapter 5 to try and get my Latter Days head on, and I was so annoyed with myself for making some really stupid errors (sentences being cut off too early, continuation issues etc). I don't often have a lot of time to write because I do it in quiet moments at work, so it might land me in hot water if the boss realised what I was doing! I'll try harder this chapter, I promise. **

**Thanks to those of you still reading this; I know I'm a bit useless at updating – life just gets in my way all the time. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this.**

**Obviously I don't own the rights to the film or characters; what you see here is just fond imagining.**

* * *

><p>"Christian?" Aaron called, and Christian leant out of the bathroom, rivulets of water running down his neck and turning the faded red of his t-shirt dark.<p>

"What?" Aaron appeared, looking harried, from the bedroom.

"Have you got a tie?"

"A tie?"

"Yeah, like a tie you wear with a shirt."

Aaron huffed in annoyance at Christian's vague expression.

"You don't have one?" Christian frowned.

"I've got the black tie I wear for work, but if you wear it with a white shirt you'll look a bit, you know…waiter or whatever."

Aaron's face grew even more panicked and Christian held out his hands soothingly.

"Okay, don't lose your shit, let me go have a look."

Christian surveyed his closet in distaste. Some of this stuff had to go. Hung around the hanger of his funeral suit was the pink whistle he'd bought two years ago at Pride, and there were some truly _heinous_ patterned shirts that he couldn't ever remember wearing.

"I gotta have a clear out," he muttered to himself, and frowned.

"Well? Have you found one?" Christian tutted, Aaron's panic almost tangible.

"Just wait a minute!" he says, and Aaron obliges by falling silent, shuffling about the bedroom in search of a pair of socks.

Finally, underneath a Hawaiian shirt that made Christian feel nauseous, he found a tie; blue, plain, non-descript. He stood, holding the offending object out in front of him.

"Is this," he said, wrinkling his nose slightly, "the kinda thing you wanted?"

Aaron's face relaxed, and he reached forward to pluck the material from Christian's hand.

"You don't have to hold it like it's got the plague. It's a respectable piece of work wear. Unlike some of _that_ junk." Aaron said, nodding at the pile of brightly coloured fabric scattered across the floor.

"Hey! My taste is impeccable!" Christian protested, a smile twitching the corners of his mouth. It lasted for all of three seconds before they both snorted with laughter.

Aaron shook his head and turned to face the mirror, twitching up the collar of the shirt as he looped the tie about his neck. Christian stood, just watching him smooth fabric, tie a knot, tuck shirt tails in.

"You know," he said, sidling up behind Aaron, "you look pretty hot in that."

Aaron rolled his eyes, lips unmistakeably upturned.

"Right. Okay."

"I'm serious!" Christian insisted, and looped his hands around Aaron's waist, resting his chin on one broad shoulder. Aaron hummed and leant back against him.

"I'm serious too. Ergh, it's like the first day of school; I feel a little nauseous. I can't puke on my first day, can I?" He tried to pull away, smiling when arms around his waist tightened, "Hey, you're gonna make me late if you don't watch out."

Christian pressed his face into the clean-smelling fabric.

"It's gonna be quiet with you not here."

"I'm not leaving for good; it's just a job. And hey, it's your turn to be the little house wife and make dinner for when I get back."

Christian sighed.

"You know that means a tin of tuna and, like, some breadsticks, right?"

Aaron laughed as he knotted his tie.

"I can't wait. It sounds very…Italian." Christian grumbled and squeezed a little tighter.

"Do you _have_ to go?"

Satisfied that his hair was tidy, his shirt and tie smart and his trousers unrumpled, Aaron gently detangled himself from Christian and turned about.

"Hey, listen to me. This is a really great opportunity; I get to do some good _and_ bring in some money to help you with the rent. You understand, right?"

Christian nodded; he really did understand, of course he did. It was just that the unreasonable, sorta jealous side of him was having a bit of a paranoia fit at the idea of Aaron working with some potentially hot, sweet-as-pie-with-good-Christian-values guy, who he had an irrational hatred for already.

As if he could read his mind, Aaron shook his head, smiled and pressed a sweet kiss to Christian's cheek.

"I gotta go. I'll call you at lunch, okay?"

Christian trailed behind him to the door, smiling as best he could and waving as Aaron walked down the steps.

"Good luck!" he called, cutting his eyes at the muscular guy from next door who wolf-whistled a blushing Aaron.

"Eyes to yourself, asshole." He muttered, before shutting the door behind him.

* * *

><p>The office seemed busier than he remembered from his interview, and Aaron made his way over to the small front reception desk where a woman with short, pixie-cut hair sat typing away busily.<p>

"Um, hi." He said, and she looked up at him with a dazzling smile.

"Hi! Aaron Davies, right? Great to have you here, Yvonne should be out of her eight o'clock in just a second. Here, I'll show you to your desk; you'll be sitting next to Serena and Adam." Slightly bemused, Aaron nodded and smiled at the two people that waved their hands in greeting at him.

"Here, you just make yourself at home and I'll send someone over to see you as soon as, okay?"

As she walked away Adam leant over and nudged him conspiratorially.  
>"She's always like that, don't worry."<p>

"Sweetest person ever, but just doesn't pipe down." Said Serena, the older woman with hair piled up in a messy bun. Aaron grinned at them both and looked at the desk in front of him. A computer (his typing was never up to all that much), a desk tidy and a miniature desk calendar with what looked like inspirational quotes. He flicked it open to January and was rewarded by the sight of a small kitten trying to reach a goldfish bowl, with text reassuring him that _'hard work always pays off'_. Grimacing a little he reached over and flipped the calendar so it lay, face down.

_I don't need a kitten to help with my nausea; it's coming along nicely all by itself._

* * *

><p>Christian leant against the front door as he fumbled for his keys, sweat pouring down his face after his run. Stretching out a hamstring as he tried to get the key in the lock, he stumbled a little when the door swung open and groaned as he banged his ankle against the step.<p>

"_Goddamnit_," he muttered and threw the keys in the bowl Aaron had picked up from the thrift store to ensure he didn't have to listen to Christian's swearing each morning when he couldn't find his set.

Retrieving a small towel from the bathroom and sighing deeply, he wandered into the kitchen, putting water and coffee beans into the machine. As the percolator began to hiss and boil, he wandered over to the landline and pressed the message play button before walking over to the coffee table to tidy up some of the books and magazines that were scattered across the surface.

"_Hello," _Christian stopped, frowning at the somehow familiar, hesitant voice. "_This is a message for Aaron Davies. I…I just wanted to know that you're safe and…happy. I…Goodbye." _

With a sound of scuffling and approaching footsteps the message ended abruptly, and Christian stared at the machine. It was only when his throat closed convulsively and his stomach gave a strange lurch that he realised his hands were shaking a little. He sat down heavily on the couch, eyes still on the winking red light that told him the strange, disjointed message was still there, waiting for him.

_What the hell do I do now?_

* * *

><p>Lila looked at her watch, realised it was only ten thirty am and clicked her tongue impatiently. Her rule of thumb for drinking had always been <em>past midday and it's anybody's game.<em> Rubbing her temples in an attempt to rid herself of the migraine the nightmare last night had caused she took a deep calming breath.

"You alright?" Andrew asked, narrowing his eyes at her as he dried the glasses fresh out of the washer.  
>"Fine, just a little tired." She said, her tone clearly indicating an end to the conversation. Andrew raised an eyebrow sceptically<br>"Right, and I'm Patti LuPone." With a long-suffering _tsssk_, Lila folded her arms and turned to face him.

"Andrew, you are not paid to pass judgement on my physical or mental state. You are here to serve the clientele of my restaurant. Is that clear?"

Biting back a retort, Andrew held up his hands in defence and made off back to the kitchen. Pursing her lips, Lila reached over the bar and picked up one of the glasses left on the side, still warm from the washer. She let her gaze linger on the import bottle of Bombay Sapphire, its blue glass glowing comfortingly under the spotlight above the bar, weighed up the pros and cons of starting to drink now, and instead filled the glass with soda water from the pump.

* * *

><p>Aaron moved about the kitchen, putting bowls and plates away whilst Christian fidgeted with a pen as he thought.<p>

"So, what're you gonna do tonight?" Christian said, cringing at the overly light tone of his voice.  
>"Ah, I dunno. They're showing the '54 version of 'War of the Worlds' at 9.00pm, so might try and catch some of that. You better change or you'll be late."<p>

Christian _hmm_'d in agreement. Aaron stopped what he was doing and put the towel down, wiping the last bits of damp from his hands.

"Are you alright?"  
>"What? Yeah, sure. I'm great; why do you ask?"<p>

Aaron's stomach gave a nasty lurch as he looked at Christian.

"What's going on, Christian?"  
>"Nothing! Don't be so suspicious."<br>"Then don't lie to me."

Christian met Aaron's gaze, shoulders slumping as he broke eye contact.

"I just…something happened today, and it kinda freaked me out."

The look of concern on Aaron's face and the way he came to stand right in front of him,

hand reaching for Christian's, made Christian feel even more of an asshole than he usually did.

"What happened? You're not sick or anything, right?"  
>"Your mom called."<p>

Silence.

"Did you hear what I said?"  
>"Yeah, I did. Did…did you want a juice?"<br>"What? No, I don't want a juice. We need to talk about this."  
>"I don't see why."<br>"You don't…alright. Okay, so you're like, in denial about what this could mean. I see it all the time on Jerry Springer."  
>"I am not in denial. Did she say if everyone was okay? Nobody's died, right?"<br>"I don't think so. She said…"  
>"See? Can't be that big a deal."<p>

Aaron opened the fridge, pulling the juice out and snagging a glass from the rack.

"Are you actually going to do this?"  
>"Do what?"<br>"God, Aaron, this is your mom." Christian pleaded.  
>"Yeah, because she's really been acting like it lately, huh?"<p>

Elbowing the fridge shut Aaron took his glass and walked straight past Christian into the living room. Staring after him in disbelief Christian followed.

"Is that it?"  
>"Yeah. Pretty much."<br>"You don't feel happy?"  
>"Don't feel a whole lot, actually."<p>

Pressing the power button on, Aaron sat and stared at the television screen, resolutely not looking at Christian who stood, brow creased in confusion.

"Aaron, come on. I know it's a shock, but you have to talk to her. At least return her call."  
>"I'm good."<p>

At a loss, Christian turned on his heel and walked through to the bedroom, reaching automatically for the shirt and pants hung over the back of the chair.

When he had finished dressing he walked back out; there was Aaron, sitting in the same position, eyes slightly unfocussed as the television played a program on Monster Trucks.

"I gotta go. I'll…I'll see you later, okay?"

Not a word. Christian felt the anxiety that had been rolling about in his stomach since this morning rise and swell into something bigger, uglier.

"Fuck, are you even going to say anything?"

The television picture disappeared with a pop and Aaron stood up, turning to face him with a dark expression on his face.

"What? What do you want me to _say_, Christian? That I'm mad at the fact that my other sent me to that place? Or is it that you think I miss her so much that I'm gonna try and crawl back there? No. Just forget it, you wouldn't understand."

Christian laughed humourlessly;

"I wouldn't understand? You know what, yeah, you're right I don't understand – you've not done anything to help me get my head around what you're feeling. You don't mention your family, and you've not talked _at all_ about what happened when you were gone since the night you got back, and even then you didn't say anything much. You want me to understand? Then fucking tell me."

The silence that fell was thick, all-consuming, and Christian's throat closed convulsively as he clenched his hands tightly to stop them from shaking.

When Aaron shook his head mutely Christian reached for his jacket and turned on his heel, striding through the door and slamming it shut.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I know, I know, it's taken forever, again. Real life is such an inconvenience; don't they understand that all I want to do is write fanfiction and eat cake all day? **

**Thanks to The Red Dove for being my go-to advisor on all things Mormon. It's been a real blessing in disguise having someone to tell me how the church works and all the little intricacies that generally make it up. I shall be using this information at some point during this fic, I promise!**

**I hope you enjoy this; please review if you have any feedback.**

* * *

><p>"Alright, what's going on?"<p>

Christian didn't reply, staring instead at the tray of cutlery he was sorting through. Andrew's nostrils flared in irritation and he kissed his teeth, eyelids narrowing as he leant back against the wall and glared at Christian.

"Are you deaf or plain ignorant today?"

"Leave it alone."

Andrew stared intently at the side of Christian's head, teeth grinding as he tried to figure out just what in hell was going on.

"Lover boy done the dirty?" he asked after a moment, relieved in spite of himself when Christian looked at him in disgust.

"Fuck you. He wouldn't do that."

"Well, something's obviously eating you, right? Otherwise you wouldn't be pouting like a goddamn diva instead of sorting the forks out."

Christian shrugged half-heartedly, the residual anger in his stomach now tinged with a sick feeling of anxious regret.

"His mom called yesterday."

"I thought they didn't talk? What'd he say to her?"

"Nothing, she left a message. I only picked it up when I got back."

Andrew nodded, understanding written on his face.

"He pissed about it?"

Christian exhaled heavily and threw down the fork he'd been holding.

"I tried to be all understanding and that crap, you know; tried to get him to talk about how he was feeling and shit, but he just clammed up and we had some big fight about it. What the hell can I even do?"

Andrew's face softened a little and he laid a hand on Christian's shoulder, squeezing firmly.

"You just gotta let him know that when he does wanna talk about it, you'll be there. Ain't no use trying to pull him the way you think he should be going. He's a big boy. He needs to get there by himself."

Christian took a deep breath, picked up the dishcloth and cutlery and started wiping. Last night he'd purposely dragged out the clean-up at the end of his shift, only getting back to the apartment at one in the morning. Aaron had been asleep, curled tightly around a bundle of bedsheet, and Christian had simply kicked off his clothes and lay down on the couch.

This morning he'd got up earlier than usual and gone for a run. By the time he was back Aaron had left for work. There had been no texts, phonecalls or IM's between them for over twelve hours. _And God_, thought Christian, _doesn't that make me sound like some crazy chick?_

"Hey, try to put a smile on that face," Andrew said, elbowing him gently. "You'll scare off all the customers."

In spite of himself, Christian managed a small grin and Andrew chuckled as they made their way into the restaurant.

* * *

><p>The bench by the hospital was empty, and Aaron perched himself in the patch of feeble January sun, pulling his jacket a little closer. As much as he was enjoying getting to know his co-workers, the smell of Serena's homemade falafel was a little overpowering when thrust in front of his face. And besides, a little one-on-one with Mother Nature was always good. As he un-wrapped his sandwich he became aware of an approaching figure and looked up. Lila, face clad in large sunglasses, walked down the path toward him, high heeled shoes clacking against the paving stones.<p>

As she drew nearer she peered a little closer at him, smiling in recognition.

"Aaron; what are you doing here?"

"It's lunchtime ma-am, I'm just getting a breath of fresh air out of the office."

Lila slid her sunglasses down her nose and looked at the sky in surprise.

"Lunch already? I felt sure it could only be eleven thirty at the latest. Still," she said, moving the glasses back, "It means time is moving relatively quickly, doesn't it?"

Aaron smiled politely and took a bite from his sandwich. Lila sat down with a sigh at the other end of the bench with a sigh and fumbled around in her bag, coming out with a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. She took one out, lit it and drew in deeply. They sat in silence for a full minute before she looked over in horror at him. Switching the cigarette to the other hand she made a hasty attempt to fan the smoke away from him.

"You're eating. How rude of me; you don't mind, do you? It's not something I make a habit of, but sometimes it seems necessary."

"Not at all, go ahead."

During the following silence she considered him from behind her glasses.

"So, you're a permanent fixture now, I suppose?"

"Yes ma'am, I hope so."

"Quite the charmer, aren't you? No offense, my dear boy, but calling me ma'am makes me feel quite a lot older than I am."

Aaron grinned and sat back against the bench, the cool wind bringing up goose bumps on the skin of his neck. Lila arched her neck gracefully and blew the smoke away over her shoulder.

"What are you doing these days?"

"I, uh, just finished my second day at a new job."

"Oh, congratulations. I take it you aren't bartending, then?"

Aaron smiled and shook his head.

"No, it's actually a faith-based charity, just a few blocks away."

"Gosh, you are a paragon of virtue, aren't you? Slow down, dear, you're making us all look bad."

"I'm no saint."

Lila smiled fondly, dropped the cigarette to the floor and crushed it beneath her heel.

"Compared to everybody else you are."

"Well, perhaps people just need to not think about themselves so much. Perhaps society could get on better then."

"Don't take this the wrong way, and it is the most _charming_ concept I've heard all day, but that is just a little naïve. Human nature is inherently selfish. We all want things that bolster our self-confidence, pad out our own ego. Our relationships become what we can drag from the other person; and we call that love. Nobody is willing to fight or die for anyone anymore. No heroes, no chivalry. Just a lot of bastards out to get what they can."

"That's a very bitter way of looking at things, don't you think?"

"That's the way I see them at the moment." She paused for a second before forcing a tight smile. "I'm sorry, it is interminably rude of me to sit here and spout all this negativity at you. I obviously woke up on the wrong side of the bed."

"Oh no, no need to apologise at all. I've not had such a great day of it myself."

Her concern tempered only slightly by nosiness, Lila took her sunglasses off and turned to face him fully, head tilted to one side.

"A problem with your new job?"

"Ah, no. I wish it were that easy. Christian and I had a _heated discussion_ yesterday about something I wish hadn't happened." Lila's face dropped and she sighed sadly.

"He's not been…playing away has he?"

Aaron shook his head ruefully and looked down at the ant making its slow progress along the stones; a twig five times its size balanced tenuously on its back.

"No, nothing like that. He gave me some news I wasn't ready for, and I just went crazy, I guess."

"You aren't ill, I hope?"

"Gosh, no. It sounds so stupid when I think about it now, but I had contact from a member of my family."

Comprehension dawned on Lila's face and she nodded wisely.

"I see. Dare I ask what the content of the conversation was?"

Aaron shrugged non-comittally. "It was a message from my mother. I didn't listen to it."

"Why not?"

"What is there to say? I'm not going to get a grovelling apology about what happened, am I? They think I'm sick, I think they're wrong. It's a no-win situation."

Lila leant back, folding her arms under her breasts.

"So do you think she was calling you to tell you that?"

Aaron shrugged.

"I don't know, and right now, I don't care. I've got something better, more meaningful now. I have a job, somewhere to live, somebody who…who loves me. What do I need from them now?"

Any reply from Lila was cut off by the sound of her cellphone ringing.

"I'm so sorry. You must excuse me; I have to take this."

Aaron shook his head, "No, not at all. I'd better get back anyway."

Lila brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and stood, handbag once more in place on her shoulder. As she turned to walk away, finger poised to answer the call, she turned her head and called, "Don't be so quick to condemn your mother, Aaron; there are two sides to every story."

* * *

><p>The machine blinked at him as he glared at it intently. Tentatively he reached his hand toward it and pressed the button down.<p>

He'd replayed it about five times, and every time he heard something different. This time Aaron had noticed the panicked hitch of breath when the footsteps approached, just before the phone went down.

He ground the heels of his hands into his eyes, exhaling slowly through his nose. His head was beginning to feel like the pins at the end of a bowling alley, and the weight of the past few hurtful, _wonderful_, confusing months was pressing down on his chest, and even the simple act of breathing seemed too much.

"Hey." Said Christian from the doorway, and Aaron thought he nodded in acknowledgement. "I…I wanted to say I'm sorry if I pushed you yesterday. She's your mom, and you gotta do what you gotta do."

The answering shudder of breath from Aaron was obviously enough to raise Christian's suspicions, and he took a step into the room, fingers twitching slightly.

"You okay?"

_Not really_, Aaron thought, and he tried to shrug casually, but suddenly his shoulders were shaking and a lump the size of a baseball kept trying to rise in his throat and this was all just _stupid_.

He didn't pull away when he felt Christian's arms go about him, and a warm nose press up against his temple.

"Hey, come on. I hate it when you cry. I know I'm an asshole sometimes, but I don't want…"

"No, no, it isn't you." Aaron said, furiously swiping at his eyes, "I listened to the message."

Against the fine hairs of his ear he heard the soft _hmmm_ of understanding from Christian, and the arms tightened a little, while lips took little pecks at his cheekbones.

The reassurance was almost more than Aaron could bear, and turning toward Christian he captured his lips; teeth pulling at the skin and hands clutching at his neck. Christian froze; caught by surprise, but quickly recovered, shifting closer still, grabbing at strong arms clad in blue cotton.

The fire in Aaron's belly that had been well and truly doused by the stress of the past couple of weeks flickered to life, and he wanted _nothing_ more than to show his so called _family_ that whatever they thought, he and Christian weren't _fags_ or _fairies_, or any of those shame-inducing names. _I'm as strong as any of you_.

Pulling back as suddenly as he'd approached, Aaron reached up to pull his loosened tie off completely, fumbling for his buttons. Christian's eyes widened, and a delighted grin bloomed across his face. Without waiting for him to second guess it, Christian's shirt also left his pants, and he wasted no time pressing Aaron downdowndown into the cushions and running his fingers _softlysoftlysoft_ down his emerging torso.

"I want you." Aaron murmured against Christian's fingers as they traced his lips, and breathed in a little gasp of pleasure at the sight of Christian's dilating pupils.

"You have _no_ idea how much I love hearing that."

Aaron laughed a little breathlessly and reached up to cup Christian's face in his palm, stroking gently.

"I always think it, even I don't tell you. Sometimes you're all I can think about in the office…"

Christian smiled, a hint of red stealing across the skin of his cheeks.

"_Hmmm_, I never had you down as having a dirty talker…"

Rolling his eyes, Aaron reached up to pull Christian down for another kiss.

"Shut up." he whispered against his mouth, and Christian shuddered, teeth pulling at the skin of his lower lip. Swinging his leg back over Aaron's body, he knelt down by the couch and kissed away the little pout of surprise and disappointment.

"You wanna take this somewhere else?"

Aaron met Christian's eyes and grinned.

"Sounds good to me."

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you all liked it. In many ways this isn't perfect, and I daresay it never will be. Still, if you liked it please rr.**

**p.s. Also, because I've got one of those sorts of brains, would anybody be at all interested in knowing what exactly happens after this? If you are, I can write a little one-shot and put it under an M rating so as not to upset anybody who doesn't like that. If not, that's fine with me.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: The usual apologies apply for the horrendous, over a month delay on this. August was INSANE; it was been wedding season, so my weekends were taken up with smiling and making endless small talk with people that don't even have a comprehension of fandoms or fanfic. Le sigh. Oh well, on with the show.**

**So, after a couple of you mentioned an interest in seeing an M rated section following chapter 7, I have posted it under its own title in the appropriate section. Those of you not choosing to read it will not miss out on any plot; this chapter runs straight on from the same day, and only about an hour after chapter 7.**

**P.s If anybody fancies beta-ing this perhaps it'd help me to bounce ideas of someone. Anyhow, let me know.**

**I hope that makes sense. Enjoy.**

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><p>As they lay, curled beneath the comforter, Christian voiced the question that had been nagging him for the past day or so.<p>

"What're we gonna do?" Aaron shrugged drowsily, blonde hair fanning out across the pillow.

"We don't have to do anything right now, do we? Unless you wanted to go again?"

Christian tutted.

"No, pervert, I meant 'where do we go next?'. You can't pretend it didn't happen. If you wanna get mad, get mad or something; just don't lie to me about it."

Aaron was quiet for a moment, before he turned to face Christian, hand trailing lightly over the hairs on his chest as he looked at him thoughtfully.

"I just…there's no point getting into it again, is there?"

Christian wanted more than anything to agree, to say that if it upset him they didn't even have to think about it. Sweeping problems under the rug hadn't done them much good so far, though, and he pressed the matter as gently as he could.

"She reached out, though, didn't she?"

Aaron winced, and when he leaned over to kiss Christian into silence. They both recognised a diversionary tactic when they saw one.

* * *

><p>The next day Christian woke with a renewed sense of purpose. Waking up an hour earlier than he usually would have, he went for a run, relishing the quiet of a city that was still rousing itself for the day. When he arrived back, a bemused Aaron was just getting into the shower, so Christian turned on the radio and hummed along as he put last night's dishes away and prepared eggs for breakfast.<p>

"I'm not complaining or anything, but what's with the productive thing you got going on this morning?"

Christian turned and smiled at Aaron, water still beading on his shoulders where he'd missed a spot whilst drying.

"I'm just feeling good, actually. Something's changing, you know?"

Aaron nodded uncertainly and shook his head as he walked to the bedroom. Try as he might, last night's conversation kept looping in his head, and he shut his eyes against the sound of Christian's hesitant voice asking what they ought to do, because Aaron was darned if he knew.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by Christian hollering from the kitchen.

"Breakfast's up!"

Taking a deep breath in, Aaron straightened his tie and left the room, grinning at Christian's out of tune singing as he served up. They ate in companionable silence, and Aaron placed his hand gently on Christian's knee when he'd finished. Christian looked inordinately pleased at this initiated affection, and Aaron could have kicked himself for letting it get to the point where such a small thing was seen as a _reward._

* * *

><p>After breakfast, Aaron tied up the laces on his shoes, frowning at a speck of dirt that refused to rub off. Accepting the coat Christian handed him with a soft smile, he checked his reflection and walked to the door. Hearing the soft throat-clearing behind him, he turned and kissed Christian firmly on the mouth, not caring that the door was open and anybody could be walking past.<p>

"Have a good day." Christian murmured after a moment against his mouth, and Aaron nodded.

"You too. Thanks for breakfast. And hey, I was, uh, wondering about maybe looking at going back to church. Not _that_ one," he said, at the look of alarm on Christian's face, "but maybe somewhere different. I don't know. Maybe you were right; perhaps it would do me some good to reconnect. Maybe."

Christian pulled back and studied him carefully.

"If that's what you need to do then yeah, knock yourself out. I'll see you later."

Aaron nodded, pressed a last kiss to Christian's lips and started the walk to work, leaving Christian staring after his retreating figure.

* * *

><p>The office closed early that day in order for the heating to be fixed. Aaron graciously declined an offer to go and catch an early lunch from the local vegan restaurant with the others and struck out on his own to get a breath of fresh air. He'd walked for thirty minutes on auto-pilot before he realised he had no idea where he was headed, so he slowed down to take in the surroundings.<p>

This was definitely a part of town he'd never been to before, and he frowned. Why had he come this way? He usually went to the park or the green outside the hospital if he needed alone time, but his mind had other designs today, apparently.

He went into the store on the street corner to pick up a bottle of water and stood outside for a moment, drinking deeply from the bottle. Just down the road a flash of colour caught his eye, and he walked toward it, his curiosity piqued.

* * *

><p>The Hope's Light Community Church was a cheery-looking building, with fresh white paint and several windows containing bright pictures obviously painted by children.<p>

A middle-aged woman poked her head out of the green door, emptying a small vase of dirty water into the drain. She caught sight of him and smiled.

"Hello." She called, and automatically Aaron grinned back and nodded his head. She looked at him for another moment and opened the door wider. "Are you looking for something?"

_Now there's a question_.

"Oh, I, uh. I just…"

The lady brushed her hair back from her face and straightened her shirt, holding out her hand toward him. Aaron walked forward and shook it, and the scent of a perfume so reminiscent of his mother's triggered that awful, heavy ache all over again.

"I'm Carol," she said, and it had been so very long since anybody had looked at him without casting a judgemental eye over his body, his personality, that in that moment he almost blurted everything out.

"Aaron." He finally murmured, and she smiled at him widely.

"Well, Aaron, did you want to come inside? We're just cleaning up after the day-care kids, but we always have time for new friends."

The hall was modest, but clean and full of artwork. A girl, probably aged about nineteen, was sweeping scrap paper into a pile with a purple broom, humming to herself as she went.

"Amanda, this is Aaron." Carol called, and the girl turned round, gave him a grin and carried on with her task. No questions asked, no suspicious glances. Carol rolled her eyes and shook her head fondly. "Teenagers, huh? Nothing to say to anybody."

She reached over to press a small switch on the wall, and a light flickered on in a tiny kitchen behind her.

"Tea? Coffee?" she offered, and Aaron, in spite of himself, couldn't help but give in.

"A coffee would be great. Just milk, no sugar. Thanks."

Carol bustled about the kitchen, spooning coffee into mugs and boiling the kettle in the corner.

"I don't know about you, but I am beat. Those kids just never stop. Ever. I had one trying to stick a paintbrush up his nose for a half hour today. I swear, it's a good thing I love children."

Aaron hummed in agreement and took a moment to study Carol covertly. Her face was free of the lines he'd seen on his mother last time he saw her, and she looked genuinely…peaceful. He pushed away the feeling of envy that rose in him and smiled as she turned to hand him a bright, spotted mug of coffee.

"It's only instant, I'm afraid, but it's better than nothing, I guess. Come and have a sit for a while."

Obediently he followed her, and she pulled up two chairs, nodding at one. He settled himself in to it with a soft sigh, and she leant back, hands wrapped around her drink, watching him thoughtfully.

"So, Aaron, do you live around here?"

"Yes, ma'am, just twenty minutes away."

"With your parents? Girlfriend? Wife?"

Aaron looked down at his hands and breathed out steadily through his nose. Now was not the time to lie, he knew that, but the temptation to just dismiss Christian as a flatmate was dangling right there in front of him.

_Be a man_.

"Uh, no, no. I live with my…my boyfriend." He said, ears going pink as he continued staring down at the fabric of his trousers covering his knees. There was a pause, and Aaron was just getting ready to make his excuses to leave, when a hand reached out and squeezed one of his hands tightly.

"Wanna talk about it?" Carole asked gently, and he looked up at her.

* * *

><p>"So, where's Aaron tonight? He meeting you after your shift?"<p>

"I dunno. He was talking about maybe going to church, so who knows, right?"

"What d'you mean?"

Christian shrugged and carried on stacking the glasses. Andrew stared at him for a moment before he rolled his eyes and flicked Christian hard in the head.

"Hey! What was _that _for?" Christian said, scowling.

"Being an idiot. I know what you're thinking. You think that just because he went back to church he's suddenly gonna crawl back into the closet."

Christian blushed and opened his mouth to protest, shutting it again when Andrew raised an eyebrow at him.

"I know it's stupid, okay. I just…I feel like, what if he goes and talks to someone who starts telling him all over again that he's wrong, and needs to change or he won't go to heaven or whatever? He's only just starting to be okay with everything that's happened, and I don't…"

"Want him to decide he could have it easier another way?" Andrew finished for him.

Traci wandered out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a bar towel.

"God, I hate this place." She grumbled, and Christian snorted while Andrew sighed dramatically.

"You know, if I had a dollar for every time you cussed this place, or the city, or even the state of California, I'd be a freaking millionaire by now."

She stuck her tongue out at him and threw the bar towel at the back of Christian's head.

"Between you freaking out that lover-boy's gonna go all fire and brimstone on your ass and this diva here saying how much she hates us, I think I might just go home and drink a bottle of vodka and slit my wrists while listening to Janet Jackson." Andrew proclaimed, folding his arms and glaring at Christian.

"Be my guest. It'd stop you bitching all the time." She said coolly, and Christian raked his fingers through the air, growling, while Andrew looked outraged.

"Children, please." Lila sighed, fingers pressed to her temples as she leaned out of her office.

They all mumbled apologies and went back to tidying up, snickering and taunting each other now and then. When the door to the restaurant went, Christian automatically straighted up.

"We're closed, sorry! We open again at midday."

The figure that emerged round the corner grinned at him.

"Even if I've come in to pick up one of the bar staff?"

Christian beamed, untying his apron and dropping it on the laundry pile.

"Well, ladies," he said to the others, grinning, "I think this is my ride. I'll see you tomorrow."

* * *

><p>"You're in a good mood. Church that great, huh?"<p>

"Yeah, I really feel like I've seen the light, you know? There's some great people there and some really _hot _women."

Christian was _almost_ sure he was joking, but he snuck a quick look at Aaron, just in case. Aaron caught him looking and smirked, shaking his head.

"You're ridiculous, you know that?"

Christian felt his face heat a little and grinned sheepishly.

"Hey, c'mon, you can hardly blame me. Last time the religion card got pulled on us I was told you were dead." The instant he said it he kicked himself for talking about it so flippantly. Aaron's face dropped and he pursed his lips tight.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I shouldn't…"

Aaron stopped suddenly, reaching for Christian's hand and pulling him round to face him.

"Listen to me, alright? You…you saved me. I would still be living a lie if it weren't for you. There is _nothing_ that could make me stop loving you. Nothing at all, so please, don't think that just because I'm investigating a new church that that means I'm leaving you. Because it doesn't."

Christian huffed out an embarrassed breath and hung his head.

"I know you think I'm being stupid…"

"No, I don't. Let's face it; things haven't exactly been easy for us, have they? But I gotta say, it's definitely getting better. Now c'mon," he said, squeezing Christian's hand before turning to walk away. "I'm taking you out to eat."

Christian stared after him, heart thudding. A guy that promised to never stop loving him, wasn't an asshole, took him out to dinner and was great in bed? Somebody up there was either having a cosmic joke at his expense, or delivering some sort of past-life karma, because little moments like this made all the bad shit seem like water under the bridge.

Aaron stopped after a few paces and looked at him in amusement.

"Uh, are you coming? I'm starving."

Blinking, Christian nodded and walked toward Aaron, who held a hand out to him. Grasping it firmly, Christian twined their fingers together and added this little step forward to his list of memories that nobody could ever take away from him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: If you enjoyed this, please review – it's great to know what you're all thinking.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: So, as I'm sure you are well aware, it's been months since I updated. I apologise for that. Various things have been going on including getting married etc etc, so I've not had time to write in quite some time.**

**Set in April, roughly (Aaron came back in September).**

**Work is unbeta-d, and I don't own any characters.**

**Reviews/feedback are greatly appreciated.**

* * *

><p>"So, Aaron, that was a good session. How are you feeling about it?"<br>Man, Aaron hated this part; the counsellor looked at his expectantly, all neutral and so freaking _understanding_. And every time he said the same thing back to her.  
>"Yeah, yeah, it felt good."<p>

And every time she turned to her computer, typed for a moment and turned back to him, head to one side.  
>"Have you had a chance to try the task we talked about last month?"<br>He _knew_ she was going to bring that up, and he knew how it was going to look when he shook his head and smiled tightly, apologetically.  
>"Sorry, no. I'll look at it this weekend."<p>

* * *

><p>The letter just wasn't <em>right. <em>He couldn't string the words together to tell her how he felt, or what had happened, or what he was doing now. Line after line was half written and crossed out, and Aaron groaned as he screwed the latest piece of paper into a tight ball and threw it across the room.

"So, I take it the exercise is going well?"

His only answer was a muffled groan from Aaron, now burying his head in his arms.

"Writers block?"  
>Aaron shook his head miserably; "I don't know what to<em> say<em>. "Sorry for being gay?" "Please come and visit me; my life is going pretty great?" Yeah, like that's gonna happen."

Christian shifted on the couch, legs dangling over the edge of one of the arms. Not for the first time he imagined what he might say if he ever laid eyes on Aaron's asshole of a family. He grimaced as he realised it was playing out like a scene from _Days of our Lives_; over-dramatic and filled with fainting women and sharply dressed men. He sighed a little.

"This is not how I pictured spending my Friday night."  
>"Well, if I'm <em>boring<em> you, feel free to amuse yourself in some other way."

Christian rolled his eyes, swung his legs over the sofa until they hit the floor and walked over to sit on the arm of the chair Aaron was sitting in, bending a little awkwardly to run his hands over his shoulders, thumbs pressing gently into the bunched muscles.  
>"C'mon, don't be like that. I didn't mean it to sound bitchy. I just meant that I like it when we spend our spare time together doing something <em>nice<em>, that doesn't involve one or both of us getting stressed out."

There wasn't really a retort Aaron could give to that, because if there was one thing he really did _not_ want to be doing right now on one of their precious nights in together, it was writing a letter that was almost certainly going to be ripped up, or thrown away before it was even read.

Smiling sympathetically, Christian pressed a kiss to the soft spot below Aaron's ear, taking a little pleasure from the quiet murmur it pulled from him.  
>"The longer you leave it, the harder it'll get." Aaron moved his head away irritably and rolled his eyes.<br>"Yeah, thank you Oprah. Don't you think I know that?" He scowled at the fresh, untouched sheet of paper in front of him and briefly entertained the idea of upending the glass of juice over it, destroying the awful thing beyond repair. He threw his hands up in disgust and pushed the notepad away sharply.  
>"You know what? This is a dumb idea; I can't do it. If she wants me to talk to my mother so badly, she can do it herself."<p>

Christian watched him slump back into the armchair, eyes closing and arms coming up to wind defensively around himself. He decided to try the whole encouragement thing once more.  
>"C'mon, don't give up. You're doing great."<br>Aaron looked at him, eyebrows raised in disbelief.  
>"I've destroyed half the Amazon rainforest, Christian; tell me how that translates to me 'doing great'."<p>

Somehow, over the past few turbulent months, Christian had learnt when not to push. He held up his hands, signifying his surrender.

"Alright, just don't do any more on it tonight; we could go out, catch a movie…perhaps you'll feel better about it tomorrow." Aaron shrugged, defeated; maybe a couple of hours away from the glaring evidence of his own failure would do him some good. Christian threaded his fingers through Aaron's and tugged gently, pulling him to his feet. "The Picture House has got a Vincent Price marathon on; if we go now we can catch the second half of it. Wanna go?"

Aaron caught sight of his hopeful face and couldn't help the smile that quirked his lips upward.

"Yeah, that'd be good."

* * *

><p>The next morning Christian awoke to find Aaron's side of the bed cold, the cover turned back neatly. He rolled over and buried his face into the pillow, desperately wishing back sleep. He didn't think he could stand feeling so <em>helpless<em> again while Aaron struggled with the stupid letter. Because really, what kind of horse-shit idea was that? Reaching out to the people who sent him away like some kind of defective toy with a manufacturers guarantee? He rolled over again, kicking the sheets down and scowled petulantly at the ceiling.

A glance at the closet revealed the sight of the freshly ironed shirt and pants Aaron had obviously left out for him. Christian groaned; he'd managed to forget about the long shift he'd signed up for at the restaurant. If they didn't need the money so much he wouldn't have even entertained it; and it was Aaron's birthday in a few weeks, and he wanted to do _something_, no matter how low-key it was.

Fifteen minutes later he was showered and had got as far as putting on his pants and shirt. He stood staring at his reflection in the mirror and wondered what everybody else saw now; had he changed outside as well as in? Did he stand differently, talk differently? Blinking, he shook his head and reached for the black tie hanging from the lamp, wandering out to the front room where Aaron sat in the same position as the night before and stared blankly at that damn notebook again.

"Did you sleep okay?" he ventured after a while. Aaron started, looking over at him. The dark circles under his eyes pretty much answered his question. "I'm gonna go ahead and take that as a 'no'." Christian muttered, shaking his head.

"I got a couple of hours. I just…I was thinking."

Christian nodded, teeth worrying his bottom lip as he tried desperately to think of something useful he could say.

"I, uh, I wish I could stay home today."  
>"Yeah, well, I doubt I'll be much company until this is done." Aaron looked down at his hands and continued, sounding distinctly unenthused, "You'll be late; just be an adult about it and go. I'll see you later."<p>

Christian winced; that was a dismissal if he ever heard one. Without saying another word he retreated to the bedroom, slipped on socks and a light jacket and tied his laces in two neat bows.

He paused as he opened the front door and called out tentatively; "I'll see you tonight, okay?"

Aaron's response was mumbled, and Christian slipped out, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

><p>Aaron stared at the coffee table gloomily. The worst part of it was that he wasn't even sure why he was still persevering with this. The counsellor had been recommended to his through the HR department at work; she thought it might bring him closure.<p>

_Closure. _Right. He was sure that once he sent the letter everything would be great; his dad would welcome him with open arms, and his mom would forgive him for ruining her life.

_And apparently_, his brain supplied, _at the moment you're doing a pretty good job of ruining Christian's, too._

Aaron supposed that if he was more inclined to the dramatic he might rage for a while, throw something, call Christian and weep down the phone at him while deploring the awful manner in which he'd been treated. He was not brought up to be that man, however, and just the thought of causing that much of a scene made him feel uncomfortable.

He wouldn't even _mind_ so much, but he'd been feeling so good about everything since that day when he found Hope's Light, and he'd been so sure that he'd turned a corner. He and Christian were so much more at peace with each other, and he was just getting used to the fact that life was different but good, when someone at work had so very _charitably _suggested to both he and HR that some good could come of him dredging through all the crap from the past year.

Groaning in frustration Aaron put down the pen and walked over to the window, leaning his head against the glass and sighing heavily, watching the cars as they came and went endlessly.

As much as he loved this strange, bustling city, sometimes he longed for more _green_; craved the vacations they took as children to visit his grandmother in the rural depths of Pennsylvania, playing on hay bales and play fighting in the sun. He screwed his eyes up tightly and tried as hard as he could to picture being that young, not having to worry about who he was going to love, or being some kind of witness for God. _Kids_, he thought, _are kids, no matter what religion_.

Breathing in and out deeply a few times, he sat down to try one final time to get the _stupid_ letter finished.

_If it doesn't happen this time, I'm giving up._

* * *

><p>The restaurant was as quiet as the grave by six o clock that evening, and for a full hour they stood behind the bar, mindlessly rearranging glasses and dusting already clean bottles. Lila begged off early and left, clad in the voluminous black cloak and dark glasses she seemed to favour on one of her 'off' days. Andrew turned on his heel in disgust and headed toward the kitchen to taunt the new sous chef, leaving Lila and Christian half-heartedly polishing glasses.<p>

"Do you think I'm an adult?" Christian asked thoughtfully, and Traci raised her eyebrows at him.  
>"Are we starting on the self-reflection thing again? Man, love sure has changed you." Christian pinched her hard on the arm, and she yelped, pulling back from him and scowling.<br>"Don't be such a bitch, I was asking an honest question."  
>"Jeez, you're so touchy! Fine, fine; do I think you're an adult?" she paused dramatically for a moment, narrowing her eyes at him. "You pay rent, have a live-in boyfriend that you've had a hell of a lot of drama with, are <em>finally<em> wearing shorts that cover over a whole third of your thighs, and you're still holding down a job. So yes, I think that probably means you've joined the ranks."

Christian sighed half-heartedly, leaning dropping his chin into his hands and leaning against the wood.  
>"I don't know, I just sometimes feel like I should be aspiring to more, you know? I can't work in a restaurant forever, right?"<br>Traci rolled her eyes and put away the stack of plates before leaning back against the counter.  
>"Alright, what's bought this on?"<p>

He shrugged; how could he possibly vocalise what he was feeling when he was unsure himself?  
>"Everything's good with Aaron, right?"<br>"Yeah, better than good. He's great, you know?"

Traci rubbed the bridge of her nose speculatively.

"What is it you think you should want?"  
>"God, I don't know. A mortgage, a house…"<br>"White picket fence, two kids, a job as a manager at Home Depot?"

Christian shrugged, wishing he'd never bought it up.

"That's what I'm saying; I don't know. It's like…I was that douchebag that everyone thought was going to end up with some kind of VD and nothing but memories of his party days. But since I met Aaron, I feel like I always have to try to be _better_, you know? I gotta work hard to be more tolerant, _nicer_, and more compassionate towards shit I didn't even care about before. Growing up sucks."

Traci looked at him for a moment, the sharp lines of her face softened. She reached out and lay a tentative hand on his arm.  
>"Hey, for what it's worth, I think you're doing a great job. Aaron's lucky to have you."<p>

"Aww, look at that; a little love-in between our favourite Daywalker and Mr Teen Queen USA." Christian glared at Andrew, elegantly sprawled over one of the chairs at a table close to the kitchen.  
>"Fuck you, Andrew; is eavesdropping the only way you can get your kicks now?"<br>"Sweetie, I didn't know you cared."

Christian gave a snort of derision.  
>"I wasn't talking to you, dick face. Traci and I were having a civilised conversation about the finer points of the human nature."<p>

Andrew raised his eyebrows. "Who are you and what have you done with Christian? All this talk about self-improvement and being a changed man…I hardly recognise you. Aaron's obviously doing something right."

A blush coloured Christian's cheeks, and he fiddled with the fraying edge of the dish cloth self-conciously.  
>"Yeah, well, I gotta try. He probably deserves better than me, so the least I can do it put in a little effort. Who knows; I might be the guy he thinks I am one day."<p>

Andrew looked at him almost tenderly.

"Honey, I think you probably already are."

* * *

><p><em>Dear Mother<em>

_I know this letter will probably be unwelcome; I hope you get a chance to read it before my father gets hold of it and throws it in the trash._

_Sometimes I forget that it has been as long as it has been since we last spoke. I remember clearly the look on your face when you turned away to leave the treatment centre. I don't think it's something I'll ever forget._

_I don't know if you ever think about me; I know you are on my mind every day. That message you left was a surprise. Christian thinks it was you reaching out to me. Again, I can't say if it was that, or some leftover parental feeling._

_I'm struggling to write this, in case you couldn't tell; I always thought of myself as quite eloquent, but I have written this twenty times over. I would like to make a couple of things clear though:_

_I am not, and will not ever be sorry for being this way. This is no more my fault than yours. If I thought I could be any other way and spare you the heartbreak and shame I have caused you, then I would. _

_I am happy here. I had a peaceful Thanksgiving and Christmas, spent with new friends and Christian. I started a new job as a fundraising administrator at a faith-based charity downtown. I am eating well and keeping fit, as you always taught me. I give any money I can spare to charity, and try always to be humble and considerate. I hope that these things can give you some comfort._

_As the days get longer again and the weather gets warmer, I think about my childhood back in Ohio. I think about playing with friends and racing up and down the street on our bikes. Life was a lot simpler then, wasn't it?_

_This letter isn't going to make everything right, but I just wanted to let you know that I think of you often._

_Your son_

_Aaron._

* * *

><p>"Is it alright? It's dumb, isn't it?"<p>

Christian looked at him, and all the reassurances that were both absolutely needed and completely true just wouldn't come out past the lump that's sitting painfully in his throat. Instead he settled for shaking his head and carefully laying the letter down on the coffee table. Aaron looked at him curiously.

"Everything okay?"

_God yes_, Christian wants to say, _everything is more than okay, because you're kind and sweet and worry about everybody being happy, even when I don't. _Instead he just nodded and smiled tightly. Aaron just hooked two of his fingers about two of Christian's and squeezed gently.

"Your family don't know how lucky they were to have you." Christian managed, voice strangled and alien to him. Aaron's face lit up, sunny and happy, and he pulled Christian closer to him, wrapping strong arms about his waist and burying his face into the warm skin of his neck. Christian stood still for a moment before reaching up to hold the broad shoulders and toned muscles of Aaron's back. He moved his head slightly to brush a kiss against the blond hair Aaron _insisted_ on keeping short.

"You're gonna be alright, I swear." Christian muttered, and Aaron nodded minutely.

He didn't think either of them knew who he was trying to convince.


End file.
